Redivivus
by Limonene
Summary: Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption.
1. Breaking the Shell

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption. _

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – First chapter may seem slightly boring but I just have to introduce the plot. I obviously won't carry on writing this story if nobody likes it, but I'll give it a while to see if anyone does. A constructive criticism is loved. Also please tell me if I have made any mistakes or errors. Thank you!_

_Chapter One_

"_Breaking the Shell"_

---

Five years. It would be five years before he could be free again. The world wouldn't halt for him, it would keep on spinning, leaving him behind, because he didn't deserve to see the beauty of the Earth, he didn't deserve to see the light of day, or the Moon's milky glare at night. He would miss the itching prospect of snow in the Winter and the hope for warmth in the Summer, he would miss it all, the Earth leaving him behind as it grew and nobody would care; they wouldn't care because he, Alan Robert Carrington, killed someone. He took a person's life and now because of it, he would become forgotten by the World, and no one would be left to care. But would it make it better to say he was '_sorry_' , he didn't think so, plus what was the point making up some bullshit, he didn't know him, he wished he could say he cared about what he did, but redemption wouldn't show it's ugly face; at least not for him.

He couldn't remember when he had taken this little transition from breaking into people's homes for money and into the killing of another human being, but obviously the time he had spent not long before at Camp Green Lake took to no effect. That's where he got his name; Squid, it was what he went by nowadays, to be someone else felt nice. He could still remember the sweltering days at camp, his hands being worked raw from the flesh which turned to a pinkish pulp, while the blazing sun beat down on their unprotected skin, causing it to tinge red. He could remember lying in his ratty cot at night, whilst everyone else was asleep and simply sitting in self-pity, finally shedding away this hard shell and for those few moments, he thought he could breathe – really breathe. But then the camp was shut down, and he thought he would have been sent to another delinquency camp, to be passed around, basically unwanted, but he had been placed into the care of a personal counselor. Some poor old guy who really did believe people could change, well he couldn't change, he couldn't let go of who he was.

He remembered sitting in court, as the prosecutor rambled on. He could pretend that he had been listening, but as his eyes wandered across the courtroom, and they had settled on a child – that's all she could have been – and she was crying, her big eyes blurred with tears that dribbled down her cheeks and onto the desk in front of her. It was all he could hear, the rest of the noise drowned out by the dripping of her tears on the wood and as she cried, he noticed she didn't wipe them away, or hide them, she let them fall; she wasn't ashamed. But was that what he was supposed to be? Ashamed? Could he really pretend that if he could go back, he would have not done it? He wasn't as cold as the newspapers made him out to be, they had said in fact at that very court session that he had slouched lazily in his chair with a cold look of disrespect for the so-called '_wonder-boy'_ , he would admit he couldn't really feel for an overdosing football player, but _'cold'_ ? He just didn't want to cry – he couldn't act like some stupid little kid anymore. Well maybe he was cold, maybe he didn't have respect for the guy he had killed. However, when he had gazed in curiosity at that child – that little girl, he had felt a sting deep in his chest, it may have been brief but for that moment he had felt her pain. But that didn't matter now; he was locked away, for the '_safety of the citizens'. _

He would have rather forgotten all of this, but as he sat, upon his rock-hard bunk in his dull grey cell, with but a toilet and a bench to accompany him, his thoughts was the only things to keep him sane, they were the only things to show him that he was once free, that he once actually lived. For when you are locked into a lonely noiseless room, you tend to lose all traces of what once was, and he didn't want to become like the guy in the cell next to him, constantly crying out for his mother, he didn't want to become crazy. But as he did, sit alone, talking to only himself in his head he heard a clatter of keys and shoes hitting against the stone floors as they became closer. Squid's ears perked slightly as the footsteps seemed to pause directly outside of his cell. Sitting up straight from his bed, he heard the click of a key into a lock and the screech as one of the many doors outside of his cell opened. Squid stood from his bed and held his breath as a guard, seen through the slit of the door, motioned him over.

"Hands through the slot, and don't try anything," the guard said in a gruff voice, eyeing Squid in obvious dislike. Squid turned his back to the door and put his hands through the slot of the door behind him that the guard had just opened, and then waited as his hands were cuffed. Feeling the cool metal on his wrists, he withdrew his hands from the slot and turned to face the now open door. "It seems, you have a visitor," the guard explained, as the shackles around Squid's ankles were fastened. He was led down a hall and into a room, separated into two by a long pane of glass, with but a small slot at the base, where the glass met with the table underneath.

The guards stood by the door, in which he had entered through and Squid sat in the chair, facing the pane of glass looking through to the empty other side. He silently wondered who it could be. Surely not his mother, she had said that she didn't ever want to see '_his ugly bastard face again_'; he would admit that it had hurt when she said that. The only visitor he had ever gotten was from a fellow ex-delinquent from Camp Green Lake. Stanley Yelnats had sat across him and gushed how strange it was that he had come to see him, but he had thought he would have wanted to '_talk_'. Like hell he wanted to talk; the only reason he probably came was out of pity. His story had been plastered across newspapers about his drunk of a mother and his abandoning father. Well he didn't need his pity.

But as the opposite door opened, Squid was faced with a girl. The guards stood by the door, and the girl slowly approached the chair opposite him, parted by glass and sat down. Her eyes were set on the table in front of her, where her small pale hands laid as she seemed to refuse to look him in the eye. Her hair was long, and hung around her face like curtains, and seemed quite greasy and lank. Her skin was pale and on her face he could see what looked like scratches across her gaunt cheeks. She seemed about fifteen perhaps younger, with long thin arms and a stick shape body as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. As he watched her, he suddenly noticed that her eyes were closed and she seemed to be chewing on her bottom lip.

"Did you know David?" her fragile voice echoed across the room. Squid's stomach dropped as he immediately knew who she was talking about.

"No," he answered, trying to keep his voice as calm as hers. His voice wasn't soft, it was hard and gruff. The girl lifted her gaze from the table and looked him in the eye. Her stare was wide and penetrating.

"Do you regret it?" she asked, her voice stronger now, more assertive. Squid looked her straight in the eye, his face blank and expressionless as hers was etched in pain. What was he meant to say? She was only a child, but he wanted to speak in honesty.

"No." He saw her eyes once again fix a gaze upon the table. She looked hurt. She nodded her head gently and closed her eyes.

"You took my brother, I want to forgive, but I don't think you will let me. I need to know you are sorry. I don't want you to be sorry for me, or my mother nor my father, but to be sorry for what you have done, I need to know," she sounded angry, he could see her small hands clutched in fists and her knuckles turning white. "I need to understand," she finished; it sounded like a soft plea.

"I can't," he replied, "It doesn't make a fucking difference," he spat beginning to get angry with her sitting there just wallowing in self-pity "It won't change anything, 'cause it can't change, nothin' can," he finished. She kept silent. "Why did you come here?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accusation rather than a question. Her eyes met with his once more and she spoke softly.

"I can't go anywhere else, I need this, I need to find something," there was long pause before she continued, staring at him blankly "I need to understand."

---

_Author's Note – Okay, so tell me, is it even worth writing another chapter, or should I stop? Please Review._


	2. Closure

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer - I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption. _

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Squid seems really horrid in this chapter, but I promise he will get better. Sorry that there's not much going on at the moment, but I'm still setting down the plot. _

_Horsesareamazing – Heaps of thanks for the review! I really wanted to be different with this story; I hope it hasn't been done before. Hope you read on._

_Chapter Two_

"_Closure"_

---

"But isn't it true that you didn't even _know_ David, Alan?" Squid looked up at the large camera pointed at his face and cocked an eyebrow smugly.

"It's Squid, and no, I didn't _know_ him in the casual sense," he replied his eyes boring into the man sitting opposite him, parted by glass. The man was quite a bit older than Squid, probably in his late thirties but was lean with a clean shaven face and classic handsome features, which contorted in confusion as Squid spoke. The camera wasn't focused on the handsome interviewer, but only on Squid as he sat leaning lazily tilting his chair on its hind legs.

"What do you mean by 'casual sense', uh…_'Squid'_ ?" Squid's attention was drawn directly into the camera and a slight smirk played on his lips. The interviewer seemed slightly sickened by this but nevertheless waited for his reply.

"David Deyell, wasn't this fucking _'wonder-boy' _that you've got him all tagged as. David Deyell was a crack-addicted suck-up who drank his way through high-school and got by with his football skills," Squid began in a low tone "David Deyell was a fake and a phoney who played almost everybody, and to be quite honest I can't actually believe I am getting _punished_ for getting rid of that piece of shit. Just because he died, doesn't mean that he was a good person, it doesn't make him a saint," Squid spat, drawing his face away from the camera and titling back on his chair once again. The lean man opposite narrowed his eyes and shook his head gently from side to side in what seemed like disbelief.

"David Deyell hadn't just '_died'_ though had he _Squid,_" He spoke Squid's name with pure revulsion, and his handsome features were now etched in dislike, staring at Squid with a heavy glare. "David Deyell was _murdered_, brutally and cruelly," he finished. Squid looked up at the man opposite with a blank expression then smirked.

"Perfect for the brutal and cruel, eh?"

---

The room was dim, with only two lights above the two chairs to light the room, from the dull grey walls to the dull grey floors. The reflection of the light highlighted the annoyance in Squid's eyes as he sat in silence opposite the young girl who had visited him exactly a week ago. Her wide, round eyes were focused on the wall behind him as she silently clutched her hands together as if in prayer. Squid's patience finally broke.

"Why are you here if you 'aint gonna' say nothin'?" he snapped, brown eyes flashing dangerously. Her eyes didn't lose focus on the wall but her hands dropped from off the table to under it. He waited a few moments to see if she would reply, but her thin, colourless lips remained tightly shut. "I don't get it, why would you bother to come here to see _me_? Why would you _want _to?" he asked heatedly. The girl's eyes shut momentarily but then opened again to meet with his and he felt a harsh pang in his chest.

"I saw your interview on television last night." Her voice was soft and calm, words falling from her lips like a stream of liquid silk. Squid shifted uncomfortably, he had kind of wished that he hadn't accepted to talk to that interviewer now.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, almost like a desperate plea.

"Nothing, anything, I don't really mind," she replied. Squid rose from his chair abruptly and backed away from her. The guards behind him kept a steady eye on him but made no attempt to approach him. Squid's eyes were narrowed in anger and his fists were clenched.

"I am not gonna' make you feel any better, but what you need to know is that your fucking brother is dead, and no matter what shit I say won't change that," he shouted, his voice harsh and loud which boomed in the room, echoing. "There is nothin' _to_ 'understand'," he continued his voice lower now, but instantly more cruel. The girl sat silently, her eyes closed and her lips quivering, her tiny hands clenched and chest constricted; she looked pained. Shaking her head softly, she looked back up at him, eyes blank and lips slack. Squid settled back down into the chair and his own calloused hands lay on the table in front of him.

"I want to hate you so much, but I don't even know you – I don't know what you've been through or what happened to you," she said softly "And you didn't know David," she finished in a whisper. Squid clenched his jaw and swallowed hard.

"Why don't you just leave, there 'aint nothin' for you here," he replied in a sigh. Her small pale hand slid closer to the glass and then through the slot, finally landing on his. Staring with disbelief he drew his hand back from her icy- cold touch. Her skin was cold to the touch almost like a porcelain doll.

"I can't" she replied forcefully her hand unmoving even though his had moved away; he didn't want to touch her, it almost made him feel guilty, but the feeling was gone to quickly for him to dwell.

"I can't make you feel better," he said harshly. The girl sighed heavily and drew her hands to her chest, clutched together.

"I'm not trying to feel better; I don't want to feel better. I want to understand," she spoke back with the same amount of force as he used. Squid furrowed his brow and studied her face; long and gaunt with hollowed cheeks and thin, bloodless lips. "Someone has to miss him; someone has to be always missing him. Others can forget, but I **won't, **and even if that means that I'll never be the same, I don't care because David is dead and I can't – I won't forget," her voice shattered into a quiet whisper. Squid felt his insides tighten uncomfortably as she broke down in front of him; not crying – crying he could handle, but she was so determined, as if there was still hope for her brother.

"Talk to someone who knows you, someone who gives a shit," he replied spitefully.

"No one does know me anymore, they're angry because you're not who you used to be. I know they'll never say it, but it's true. A lot of my friendships are done, and all I know is that I need this, I need this," her words set like a blade in his chest, he didn't want to hear about her pathetic little life, he didn't want to know what '_pain_' she's been going through; he didn't want to care.

"What - do – you – want – from - me?" he asked, each word said loudly, with anger lacing each syllable. The girl rose from her seat and left through the doors, guards following without another word.

---

It was a strange feeling just sitting in your cell, feeling your own sanity rotting away. The mother-crier next door had started weeping hours ago but his calling out had only just started.

"Mother! Mum! Mother!" The same words repeated over and over, beginning to make Squid's head ache. Squid lay back down in his bed, atop the covers and thought back to his own mother. He could still remember how disappointed she had been when he had been sent to Camp Green Lake, but even so, she had forgiven him for the stealing, for the fights at school, for the bad grades, but when he looked into her old tired eyes _that night_, telling her what he had done; telling her how he had killed another human-being, she had looked at him with disgust. His own mother had to look away from him in revulsion, he actually _disgusted_ her, repulsed her. He wanted to say sorry, he wanted to tell her he had done it in self-defence, but he couldn't lie to his mother – sure she was a drunk, but she cared for him, and she did the best she could. He had momentarily thought to tell her that he loved her, but she had already told him that she never wanted to see him again – ever, so he left. Squid thumped his chest hard with his fist, he didn't really know why, but he did it over and over until his chest was red and sore. Removing his t-shirt, Squid looked down at the large red splotch on his chest and could feel it ache. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but the feeling of self-loathing panged harshly in his chest – he wanted to make it stop, he wanted to – to understand? Sitting up rigidly, he felt himself shiver. The girl haunted his mind; her large glowing eyes and small pale hands. She was breaking into his mind.

---

_Author's Note - I realise that the girl's behaviour (name still to be revealed) seems a tad odd, but I'm sure if any of you readers have ever lost anyone, you'll know what its like. Please Review._


	3. All These Things I've Slain

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption. _

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Another chapter finally! Sorry for taking so long. It's slightly short, but has some important clues I hope you guys pick up on. Thank you!_

_Horsesareamazing – Thanks for another review, I'm glad you decided to read on. I realize Squid may seem too angry, but I really wanted to capture the whole "teenage angst" thing (classic overdramatic teens). Oh, and about his mother, I've always thought that children are sort of like their parents, even the tiniest bit, and although Squid may seem slightly like his mother they do have a lot of differences. I hope you enjoy this chapter! _

_Chapter Three_

"_All These Things I've Slain"_

---

The paper lain in front of him was bare, so crisp and white, that in his hands it seemed so out of place and wrong that he should be allowed to hold something so delicate as a plain sheet of paper. There was not a crease nor a smudge marring the pristine piece of paper but as Squid lifted a hand to sweep his hair from his eyes, the skin on the pad of his fore-finger was sliced on the edge of the paper, and as Squid jerked his hand away in pain, a deep crimson droplet of blood splattered across the once pure white page. Pulling down his sleeve over his hand, Squid tried in vain to wipe away the droplet of blood, but only a greater mark was left. Like a slash from a knife across the page had caused it to bleed.

"Shit!" he swore, still trying to wipe away the harsh red smudge, but the paper would never be as it was. It was tainted. Screwing it up angrily, Squid threw the paper ball at the wall and watched as it rebound finally rolling across his cell, hiding under his bed. Lifting himself from the floor where he had been sitting preparing to write, due to one of the few times the prison had actually given them a piece of paper and a pencil to write, he heard the undeniable clatter of cell keys, usually meaning someone would have a visitor, and Squid momentarily hoped it was his mother coming to see him. But that thought was foolish, so he brushed the thought away.

---

"What happened to your finger?" she asked. Squid looked down at the small cut across his finger pad but then looked over at the girl opposite him, a scowl written across his features. He was actually quite surprised she had managed to see the small cut.

"I'm very clumsy when it's 'arts and crafts'," he sneered. It was almost as if he gained pleasure from concealing his pathetic events from her; guarding them as if they were secrets. The girl sighed and laced her fingers together and placed her hands on her lap.

"I'm sorry I walked out on you yesterday." Squid's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. There was that word again _'sorry'_ , it just sounded so fake, it didn't mean anything.

"You're not sorry," he spoke with a cruel smirk on his face "How could _you _possibly sorry for someone like me," he continued "I suppose you've heard all about me, read all these shitty reports, you know I think I remember one about your mum tryin' to get me on the death row." The girl looked up at him, her large childlike eyes starring into his.

"Please, don't talk about my mother. She's been having a hard time," the girl spoke in a soft plea making his insides clench uncomfortably. Squid shook his head lightly and let out a short, cruel chuckle which echoed throughout the near bare room.

"'_A hard time'?_" he repeated with new found malice in his voice. "S'ppose it's all for the cameras," he taunted. He had to admit it to himself; he actually wanted to get this girl mad.

"You weren't there," she replied her voice still in the same soft whisper. "You weren't there when she dropped to her knees and cried. You weren't there watching her weep knowing there was nothing you could do," the girl paused and wrapped her thin arms around herself "My mother was dying and I couldn't help her – I couldn't do a thing, because I – I can't find the words to comfort her, because there aren't any. Her son is dead and all she had left for a child is me, and I don't even compare to _him_," the girl had began shouting, her voice crumbling away into silence. He wanted her to stop; he didn't want to listen to this. "I have never said this to anyone, but most of the time, I flat out wish that it were _me_ who was dead," her voice was strong and forceful. Squid held his breath and watched noiselessly as she buried her pale face in her hands. She didn't weep or cry, she didn't make a noise and he could barely hear her breathe, but watching the child fall apart in front of him, made him want to puke.

"What's your name?" he asked abruptly. It was the softest he had ever spoken to her before. He didn't know why he asked, maybe he just wanted her to act like she had before, and he hated it when people's emotions were all over the place. Her face lifted from her hands and she sat up straight looking him in the eye.

"April," she replied. Squid looked away from her penetrating stare and settled his eyes on the table unable to think what to say.

"I'm Sq – I'm Alan." His real name felt foreign to his lips now, but as he said it a small smile played on his lips, but he quickly replaced it with a scowl.

"Alan," she repeated, he wasn't quite sure why, perhaps testing the waters. His name slipped from her lips so softly, he didn't mind it when she said it. His mum hardly ever called him by his name; he wished she would have. April broke the silence as she sighed softly, causing Squid to look up at her, seeing her face twisted in discomfort.

"I had so many things I wanted to say to you, but now I'm not sure," she said, Squid didn't understand, but he listened anyway, "My mother is returning tomorrow, from her bereavement group, so I guess this will be the last time I visit." April's eyes connected with his, and he could see the dark circles around her eyes he guessed from loss of sleep "I want to say that I understand now, but I can't pretend." Squid suddenly felt rage building up within him. Narrowing his eyes like slits he glared at her and a low chuckle escaped his lips.

"Aw, how absolutely _precious,_" Squid began in a sneer, standing from his chair but still looking her in the face. "Would mummy not like you coming to visit the big bad wolf?" April turned away from him and stood also, trying to size him up but she was a good foot shorter. "But of course, your mum wants me dead; perhaps she can use you to slip somethin' to me, huh?" April's features set in disbelief and she furrowed her brow, finally looking him in the face again.

"My mother is a caring woman…" her sentence was cut short as Squid snorted.

"Well if she's so fucking caring, where is she now? She's dealin' with her own problems, leavin' her daughter to cry to a stranger," Squid rambled in a fit of rage. "She doesn't give a fuck where her daughter is; I bet she didn't even ask where you were goin'. She goes and cries about her own woes as you're left alone. Some carin' woman." April had turned her back on him, shoulders sagging and head bowed. Squid didn't know why he was so angry, but as he watched her, he almost felt regret for shouting.

"What does it matter to you?" she asked. Her voice wasn't sneering nor judgmental but naïve, like when a child asks a question to their mother; like when seven year old Squid asked where his father was, so naively – so foolish. His mother had been crying, and he was too young to help, to know how to handle it.

"It doesn't," he snapped. April shook her head and turned back to face him, eyes set in pity.

"I'm sorry." He wished she would stop saying that.

---

_Author's Note – More feedback! If you have any ideas or suggestions, I am happy to hear them. Also, I'm sorry if I made April's character too corny, I would like to hear also what you think about my take on the characters. Please review._


	4. Shelter My Ignorance In Fatigue

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – I must say that I'm disheartened by the lack of response, but I will still say I am sorry for taking so long with this chapter._

_Chapter Four_

"_Shelter My Ignorance in Fatigue"_

---

Squid once again lay awake in his cell bed. He had been haunted by dreams of _her _for days, and well, he just couldn't take it. Most nights he just willed him self to stay awake; save himself the pain. But he wasn't going to whine and wish that he could have taken back those things he said, he was glad he said them, they were true. Her mother _was_ selfish. But April couldn't see that, she couldn't see that her mother was a fake and a conceited woman. Shaking his head in frustration, Squid sat up in his bunk and bowed his head in his hands. He shouldn't be thinking about it, he should sleep. But even as he thought this, he couldn't help but think back to as she pleaded for him to stop sneering about her mother, but he had carried on, taunting her over again. But he wasn't a stranger to the harsh taunts of others, he wasn't as inhumane as the papers judged him as; he had feelings. He remembered back in Camp Green Lake a few guys laughing about his mother, calling her a drunk. He couldn't understand at the time how they found out, but their files weren't as hard to get hold of as one would think. He remembered them taunting and judging his mother and he would admit it hurt; but not to others. He had just laughed with them, talking about her so harshly, which reminded himself of his father. He hated himself.

---

"You know many people are talking about a biography being written about you." Squid snorted and shook his head, a slightly annoyed look playing on his facial features. Squid looked up as yet another reporter sat across from him, this one younger then the other, with fair hair and glasses.

"A'int that just what I wanna' hear, just another guy making money off of _my _story," he grunted, his eyes looking down at the table, resting the temple of his head on his hand in what seemed like disinterest. The reporter looked down at the papers in his hands and a small smile twitched on his thin lips.

"So tell me, there have been reports about David Deyell's sister, April Deyell coming to visit you, what did she want with _you_, 'Squid'?" At the sound of her name, Squid looked up at the reporter, his eyes flashing dangerously. The reporter didn't look away but carried on staring right back at him. He didn't want to hear about _her_.

"And how would they know that?" he asked through clenched teeth. His eyes momentarily rested on the guards behind the reporter and his eyes narrowed into slits. The reporter didn't answer, but just sat back and smirked.

"You seem quite…touchy about this subject," the reporter mused, the smile still across his lips. Squid's fist banged hard on the table, with his knuckles white and fist clenched so hard that his nails bit into the skin on his palm.

"I 'aint _touchy_," he seethed, tone set in rage. He muscles were tensed and his cheeks were sucked against his molars trying to contain his fury.

"Well why don't we talk about her then? Where shall we start?" Squid stood abruptly and slammed a fist at the glass, the guards looked weary and edged forward, but only a few inches from where they had been originally standing. "Well, I'm sure the public will find this very interesting," the reporter's eyes glinted with pleasure as Squid lunged forward again, this time both fists punched at the glass.

"I'm sure they'll find it more interestin' when I break your neck in two," Squid replied. His jaw was clenched and his chest felt compressed with the rage building inside of him. The mousy-haired reporter opposite seemed to be smirking to himself as his eyes traveled over the page in front of him. "You wanna' know somethin' about her?" Squid asked, his tone biting "She is a conceited, attention-seeking kid, who wants people to feel sorry for her. There are you fucking happy?" The reporter looked up at Squid, his eyes twinkling with what seemed to be hidden intentions and smiled; a smile that made Squid's skin crawl.

"Very," he answered.

---

The dull grey room had become very familiar to Squid, its coldness and lack of comfort had felt honest to him. He couldn't understand why anyone would actually choose to see him; since the day of David Deyell's death Squid had become somewhat of a 'celebrity'. He thought this pathetic, that newspapers and television reporters would actually want to talk to him. Is this really what the public wanted to see? It's the strangest feeling when every day you receive letters from people you don't even know trying to convince you that '_God will forgive' _him. Where was God when his mother wept at night?

"You know, a mother has nightmares about everything that could happen to her child; a car crash, a sickness. But you are meant to wake up. I can't. I wake up every morning with the illusion that this is a nightmare, but then it sinks in that the nightmare is my life. It kills me that for a few treasured moments as I open my eyes, my child is safe in my arms, everything is fine. But then it hits you, your worst nightmare has become your home and it makes you wonder why you even live at all. I am terrified." Squid looked up and saw the woman was tearing, and it made him queasy. She was a very beautiful woman, with lips glossed in rouge and hair twisted in a tight bun. He didn't think she looked 'distraught' as the papers described her; she looked stern and sharp, never shedding a tear unless needed. But as he looked at her dark eyes he noted that the shutters usually cutting of her sentiment were open revealing rage bubbling beneath the green surface. "I wake up every day with the image of your face smiling as you murder him, over and over, imprinted on the inside of my eyelids. And I don't care if the judge said it was manslaughter – it was and is murder!" Her voice was strong and raging, with her eyebrows narrowed dangerously as she looked at him with pure loathing. She didn't look much like April – in fact there wasn't really any resemblance, the woman however reminded him a lot of David. Squid scowled as she let out a dry sob; it was sickening. "He was my son, my only son. But it doesn't even seem like you care – like you actually have no remorse for what you did." That was when Squid snapped. Eyes flashing with annoyance he looked straight at her with a stiff jaw.

"Well how absolutely heart-wrenching," he snapped, tone dripping with sarcasm. "You don't want me to feel bad for what I've done; you want me and every other fucking person to feel sorry for _you_." Mrs. Deyell's eyes narrowed but her lips stayed tightly pursed as Squid continued. "You can sit here and tell me what a '_selfish_' person I am, but don't even try and convince me that you are any different. I mean '_Your only child_', doesn't there seem to be somethin' wrong about that statement? And then there's all this '_I never want to see your face ever again_' bullshit, when here you are. Does no one ever even consider that maybe I don't want to see your fuckin' face either?" He should have stopped, but the rage was pouring from his lips into words "You are a fucking phony! You're just here for some shitty story aren't you? Just like everyone else. Well I'm tired of being made a meal out of, where people just pick and pick until there's nothing left. You lost your son and yet I'm the one who is left robbed?" Mrs. Deyell didn't look teary or angry at that moment, she almost looked sympathetic but then it contorted in sick humor. The stony silence only remained for a moment as a cruel chuckle left Mrs. Deyell's lips.

"I saw the interview you had with that reporter about my daughter," at those words Squid's chest tightened. "I don't care what you say or think, but I love my daughter and I came here today to make thoroughly sure that she will not be seeing you again. I don't know what you promised her or what you've been saying, but whatever she's looking for, she won't be finding it from you." Her tone was final and dark as she stood from her chair and he watched as she left with only the clicking of her heels following. Squid's anger flared but he kept still, allowing his eyes to follow her as she left. But as she paused waiting for the guards to unlock the door, Squid rose from his chair.

"She will come, I hope you know that." Mrs. Deyell turned and saw the gleam in Squid's eye as he stared back at her; it was a look she would come to recall for the rest of her life.

---

The train ticket between Squid's fingers set a wave of confusion to wash over April's face as he pulled it from his pocket and laid it on the table. It looked old, the once crisp edges were frayed and the card was slightly crumpled. Running his fingers over the surface of the ticket he looked up at April.

"I'm confused." April's soft voice echoed against the bare walls. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" Squid could see that the dark circles had become darker around her eyes, and her lips looked torn and dry, with the rest of her face pale. Squid placed the ticket on the table and slid it under the slot of the glass.

"I took this – it was in his pocket, and I took it, straight out of the pocket of the person I just killed," he rambled. He made sure he hadn't looked her in the eye as he spoke. He saw as her pale fingers delicately take hold of the ticket and bring it closer to her face, her finger-pads brushing across the surface. Looking up at her face, Squid saw her eyes following over the number hand-written on the back of the train ticket, in black ink. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why did you give this to _me_?" she asked, her glassy eyes looking into his "I know my mother came to see you – why not to her, why me?" Her tone almost seemed hurt. Squid swallowed hard the bile rising in his throat.

"I can't even explain to you why I took it in the first place. But, it felt like I was carryin' him around with me, you know?" he began, eyes settling on the table rather than looking at her "It was like I could still feel his heart beating through the ticket – as if he was still there haunting me." a long pause was drawn out as neither of them dared to speak a word in the innocent silence "I gave it to you, because I thought you would understand. There's no escape while it's with me." As he finished, he dared to look up at her, only to see her face contorted in what seemed to be fear or even perhaps anger.

"There's no escape for you anywhere – you can't escape from what you have done," her voice was the harshest he had ever heard from her. Watching as her fingers played on the embossed numbers on the back of the ticket, he drew his face closer to the glass.

"And neither can you." April looked at him, eyes wide and stricken reminding him of a deer caught in headlights. A hard pang erupted in his chest and he felt his insides begin to ache – it was a feeling he had felt before, especially around his mother; it felt like guilt.

---

_Author's Note - I am so sorry for those who actually do read this story that it took me so long to write. Please, please, please review, I really want to hear what you think so far, even if it's negative, I'm sure I could use the pointers. Thank you!_


	5. Abandoning My Chains For Life

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Sorry for the late update! Oh, and I would like to dedicate this chapter to my two trusty reviewers, Horsesareamazing and HuNkYcHuNkYmOnKeY97030!_

_Horsesareamazing – Thanks so much for taking your time to review! I am glad you like the story, hope you read on._

_HuNkYcHuNkYmOnKeY97030 – I was a tad unsure whether I could stretch his character to commit murder but hopefully it was convincing. I am so happy that you are enjoying my story, I really appreciate that you took your time to review._

_Chapter Five_

"_Abandoning My Chains For Life"_

---

The silence was stomach-turning. Squid watched as April rested her head in her hands; it was a position he had encountered many times before. When he was at school there used to be a girl who sat in front of him, he knew she came from a very wealthy background, with the designer labels which he despised; mostly due to the fact his mother didn't earn enough. This girl was relatively pretty, long auburn hair with sharp features and full lips, and even though he couldn't explain it, Squid disliked her – even hated her. He used to pick jokes about her weight, even though he knew her weight was normal, but he did it anyway and even used t take pleasure when she would come in looking like a scarecrow weeks later, her features now looking more blunt and sunken. He used to watch and laugh as she too allowed her hollow gaunt cheek to rest in her palm. He wasn't sure why he had thought of her – he couldn't really remember her name, but maybe it was the power he realized he had; he had made a perfectly pretty girl turn to dust with a few simple words.

"I wish I could just leave." Her voice was forceful and as he looked up he could still see the faint scratch marks down her face, embossed into her skin like a brand.

"Why don't you then," he scoffed "I 'aint gonna' stop you," he sneered, his words laced with a harsh edge he wished would evaporate. He watched as she subconsciously grazed her forefinger along a particularly deep scratch down her cheek and rubbed the skin delicately. He momentarily wondered if it hurt much, but quickly brushed the thought away.

"You don't wear the chains I do," she mumbled, eyes averted toward the floor. Squid cocked an eyebrow and snorted. Her eyes flicked upward and looked at him, puddles of disappointment staring at him – through him. He looked at the ticket tucked beneath her fingers, and wondered whether he should have even showed the damn thing to her. "I am trapped in this place – I don't think you realize it yet, but you're here as well, locked in here with me." Squid looked directly at her and could see her emotions bleeding from her, it was sickening, so pathetic. Turning away he let out a short chuckle; cruel and harsh.

"Of course we are fucking locked in here; it's a prison," he replied smugly, not wanting to see her face, but in the end turned to see her face buried in her hands. She quickly sat up, brushing away her grimy hair from her face, looking him in the eye. "What happened to your face?" He hadn't realized how nasty the comment was until it had left his lips. Her hand immediately went to her face and her finger touched the deep cuts across her face.

"It was me," she admitted eyes still on him, refusing to look away in shame, Squid quirked an eyebrow and felt his chest compress. Clearing the bile rising in his throat, Squid's facial features softened.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" he asked, watching her eyes flicker away from his suddenly cutting off her thoughts. Her pale fingers clasped tightly at the ticket on the table and squeezed it as if for support, like a child squeezing their mother's hand while getting an injection.

"It doesn't matter," She dismissed quietly. Squid noticed that the deep cuts looked partially healed.

"When?" he asked and the one single word rebounded off the plain walls and echoed in his own head, stifling in the eerie silence. The girl's eyes closed briefly but reopened revealing her large glassy eyes.

"Please – stop," her pleas struck something in his chest causing his chest to tighten. Gulping hard, Squid pushed his fingertips against the glass.

"Everyone dies, you know that, so why can't you accept it?" he spat, his nails scratching the glass, not leaving a mark. "Go and fucking get on with your life!" April's jaw tightened and as she tilted her face upwards he noted the deep scratches on her neck.

"Everyone just expects you to carry on where you left off; they don't understand that you're not living everyday in the prospect of looking forward to something – it's just another less day to live with the pain; another less day to live without him." Squid shook his head, and his eyes narrowed, and though he couldn't explain it anger had began to rise within him.

"I'm not gonna' give you pity, I'm not some damned sheep like the rest of 'em. Have you ever noticed that when something good happens to a person, other people shun it due to jealousy? But as soon as somethin' bad happens, they all pretend to be part of it '_I was his best friend!_', all these fucking phonies juicing it for what it's worth. They won't say it, but they cling to you, and pretend feel sorry for you because of one thing – it's that thing gleaming in their eyes; it's fucking gratitude that it _didn't happen to them_." Squid looked up at her and saw she was frowning, with more sorrow than anger he decided.

"So what does that mean?" she asked softly, confusion fluttering on her features "Does it mean that you wish it would happen to you?" Squid's stare was squared with hers as if daring her to look away, but her eyes kept on his as he opened his dry, chapped lips.

"It means that I want a label for my misery."

---

She hadn't visited him in weeks, and although Squid knew he should have been grateful, he almost wished she would – even if all she would do was scream about how much she hated him. He kind of missed the company, which didn't really make any sense, he was forever being talked to by psychologists and reporters, all trying to worm into his brain and perhaps write a book about Squid's twisted mind and make millions. Squid supposed that's why he wanted to see _her_, because she wasn't gaining anything; it didn't feel fake. He was almost certain that April's lack of visits was due to her mother – that wretched bitch. Squid regularly defied his mother – back when he had one, so why couldn't she? The days grew longer when he realized life had no mystery left for him; it was all a routine established by the prison to make them turn insane – well at least that was what he figured. Day in day out it was the same thing over and over – for five years. He knew escaping wouldn't be easy, but he had to try.

His thoughts were interrupted as the man opposite cleared his throat. Squid looked up and saw the young man sitting with a look of slight nervousness on his face. He would be a relatively handsome man, Squid decided if it wasn't for the man's scar running across his cheek and a weak jaw line almost making him look feminine. The man's eyes were slightly wild; wide and unsettling, but as the pair of deep blues landed on Squid he felt a rush of remembrance trickle into his brain.

"You 'aint gotta' be nervous Zigzag," Squid drawled. He noticed a small twitch in Zigzag's eyes as he spoke his old nickname.

"It's Ricky," he immediately corrected with a rush of colour rising to his face, the words hadn't been snapped nastily, but they tumbled out his mouth as if involuntarily and as soon as he had realized what he had said he looked almost surprised at himself.

"You've done well for yourself I see," Squid observed, glancing over Zigzag's smart suit. Squid could see the once characteristically crazy hair had been tamed and was now greased and slick back – Squid thought he looked like a fool. Zigzag's long slim fingers drummed on the table at a quick pace and it was only when Squid sighed Zigzag looked him in the eye.

"I want to help you," Zigzag began "But you aren't stupid enough to think that I wouldn't be asking anything in return." Squid quirked an eyebrow and watched as Zigzag took a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket, placing it on the table. "I want to make a deal."

---

_Author's Note – I wanted to have a short appearance of Zigzag because too many OC's can be confusing. I hope you liked the way I portrayed his character – although I am open to all suggestions, but to suggest you have to REVIEW! Thank you._


	6. Language of a Maniac

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – I am so so sorry about the freaking long update. Lot's of homework to do. But anyway, I'm really starting to break into the story line now. Hope you enjoy!_

_Cityofevil – I absolutely adored your review! Thank you so much. I apologize to a wonderful dedicated reader that I hadn't updated in so long. I like to think that Squid isn't this big softie like many others portray him, and as for April – I really strived to not make her perfect, as I know many others dislike that in most OC girls. I really wanted to set her apart, but one thing I will say is that maybe she is too overdramatic. Wow, I really rambled just then. Anyways thanks so much for your review, hope you read on!_

_I would like to dedicate this chapter to cityofevil, for her absolutely lovely review!_

_Chapter Six_

"_Language of a Maniac"_

---

"I must admit that I am surprised that you showed." The long drawn out drawl left Squid's lips with a twist of cockiness – cockiness he didn't even know he possessed. He watched as April shuddered at the sound of his gruff voice.

"You asked me to," she mumbled, each word tumbling from her lips as if forced. Her head was bowed and her long ratty hair drew a curtain over her face. Squid leaned forward and held a confident smirk upon his lips.

"And if I asked you to jump off a bridge…" he replied in almost a sing-song voice, allowing his sentence to linger.

"I don't need anybody to ask me to." Squid rose an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side and let a sympathetic mask fall upon his face.

"Oh boo-hoo, cry for me," he taunted, his tone imitating that of a girl's voice. April's gaze snapped upward and her gaze met with his; he had expected her look to be filled with hatred and perhaps anger, but instead pooled misery and pleading.

"Please, just tell me what you called me here for, I need to leave here." Squid almost missed the girl who had sat before him asking that _he_ would be the one who would see _her_. Squid's smirk widened as he leant closer to the glass, in turn causing her to rear backwards.

"This may be the last time you see me behind this glass," he began, April's face contorted into confusion, but kept silent "But this won't be the last time we see each other." His last words were whispered so low, he wondered if she actually heard. He watched as she drew an uncomfortable breath and saw her hold it in.

The silence was grueling and he momentarily wondered what she was thinking – he wanted to see inside her head, to be able to bewitch her thoughts, read her like an open book – he wanted to possess her. He hadn't realized how much she actually interested him until that moment, as he watched her curiously, like an animal awaiting its prey. He liked her naivety but at the same time resented it – it was a battle raging within him, was she going to fool him like every other person he had begun to trust?

"Why would you tell me this?"

"I thought you ought to know, I mean I think now that we are a little closer than just acquaintances." April seemed disgusted by the concept and stood from her seat abruptly.

"You really must be sick – you know what you did!" She was usually so calm, Squid mused to himself, but at this moment disgust was bleeding from her "You think I want to see you – you think we could actually have some sort of friendship? I don't like the fact that the answers I crave can only be told by the person I should hate the most. I may not be able to hate you – but there has not been any instance that I have liked you. Most of the time I like to pretend you don't even exist." A large smirk tweaked on his lips as if he hadn't heard a word of what she had, but he had heard every word that had left her lips. April, as if just realizing everything she had said, sat calmly back down in her chair and allowed her fingernails to dig painfully deep into the flesh of her arm.

"People like you and me need each other," he drawled, his eyes glinting in the light. April turned her head and let her hair hang in her face as usual.

"I am not like you – I cou - I couldn't kill somebody. **I am not like you**."She sounded forceful, pushing the words from her lips; spitting them at him like bullets.Squid's fist slammed down on the table and his other hand pushed against the glass, his palm facing her.

"You just can't see it – you can't see what we have – but you'll know. I can show you," Squid's maniacal voice boomed across the room, his own voice alien to him. He could hear himself sounding like a maniac, but he didn't care. She was denying it – denying the fact of who and what she was. He wouldn't stand for fakers. Her face was struck with terror and she once again rose from her seat, her hands clutched together and eyes wide.

"Please, just stay away from me – it's not fair to him – you are scaring me." He watched her run to the guards, her trousers, which were at least two sizes too big dragging across the floor as she ran. He pushed forcefully against the glass with his palms and stood also watching as the guards let her out.

"See you soon! You'll see, you'll see!" he called, tone set in madness. He then saw as she turned her head, just for a moment to take one last look, and then closed her wide eyes and left the room.

---

Squid sat in his cell, a vial of pale liquid in his hand. It looked like milk, with a bluish tinge and perhaps a slightly thicker liquid. The vial was no bigger than his little finger and he clasped it tightly in his fist, looking around carefully to make sure there were no eyes on him, and carefully uncorked the milky liquid, slowly bringing the glass edge to his lips. Zigzag hadn't told him what the liquid was, or what it would do; but it was perhaps that mystery that made Squid unafraid. Or perhaps it was the fact he had nothing to lose – how can you be afraid of death when there is nothing to live for, why be afraid of pain when half the time you want to hurt just to know that you are capable of feeling pain, you are capable of feeling something - anything.

"How the fuck could you get it in here?" Squid had asked. Zigzag immediately shushed him and scowled.

"Keep it down!" he had hissed, his wild, wide eyes darting in each direction. Maybe he hadn't lost that slightly paranoid spark, Zigzag had about him. Zigzag's eyes had finally settled on Squid, and he had leant in close to the bars of Squid's cell.

"All you have to do is drink it – but you make damn sure that you get rid of the container. The cork you can swallow." Squid had agreed without many questions, he didn't need to really ask how Zigzag had gotten it in the prison supposedly undetected, Zigzag obviously had connections now – Zigzag had money now.

Feeling the cool glass, so smooth and clean, he finally parted his lips, tilted his head back the liquid darted down his throat. Feeling the cool liquid slither down his throat, burning as it went, Squid quickly pushed the vial into the small gap he had made into the stuffing of his mattress and pressed his booted foot hard down onto where he had placed it within the mattress, causing the vial to smash into small shards. The cork however Squid chewed and swallowed – the small parts sliding down his throat. Feeling satisfied with himself, Squid finally sunk onto the floor, his back leant against the wall as he finally acknowledged the pain pulsating in his stomach, twisting his insides agonizingly. Clenching his fists at his sides, Squid tried to contain his agony, but eventually a loud groan escaped past his lips and reverberated throughout his cell. Squid let out another cry of pain, and began to squirm in torture on the floor. A sharp blade of pain poked at his insides and clenched them together, twisting them like putty. Loud echoes of pain rang throughout his cell, and his screams of agony overpowered those of the Mother-crier. Clutching at his stomach, Squid squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, trying to suck in the pain. Cold sweat trickled down his back, causing goose-bumps to rise on his skin, and his head began to ache as more shouts left his lips. Dizziness was overcoming him, and as he lay on his side on the damp cell floor, he blacked out, with only the weeping of the Mother-crier and the thumping of his own heart sounding in his ears.

---

_Author's Note – I am sorry if this didn't sound realistic enough, suggestions would be great. Please review. Thank you!_


	7. Your Private Hell

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Sorry it took so long. Oh and also thanks to the lovely reviews, it is much appreciated. _

_Chapter Seven_

"_Your Private Hell"_

---

"It says here you didn't really get along with your brother very well." April sighed gently and turned her face to the window behind where the psychologist sat staring at her. Lacing her fingers together, she held them at her chest and closed her eyes.

"What of it," she replied gently. The psychologist leaned forward and placed his hands on the table parting them and sighed also, quickly straightening the gold plate atop his desk stating proudly "_Dr. Seywell"._

"Well why do you think you had a rather tiresome relationship," He asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin with his right hand, the other brushing over his name plate. Her arms secured around herself, and then she looked upward, her features tired and sullen.

"**I don't know**," her words were strong, she seemed angry at him. He looked down; she knew she was being difficult.

"I promise you that the pain will subside. It will get easier" Her eyes snapped upward and gazed at him, an ugly mask of anger slipped over her skin, there was anger bubbling in the pools of blue and her nostrils flared.

"Don't you tell me that – It doesn't change anything, he is still gone." Dr. Seywell raised an eyebrow and quickly scribbled something down into a notepad on his desk. April gulped down hard the sick rising in her throat and closed her eyes briefly before, removing her disguise of anger and settling on confusion, her eyes meeting with his. "I mean, I open my kitchen cabinet and sitting there is a box of cereal I had bought for us – David always had a big breakfast, he had football and lots of other sports so he was always had a mixture of cereals and fruit in the morning – I mean I look at this box of cereal and I think, when I got that he was still here and yet, he's gone but the cereal is still just sitting there ," April had realized that she probably hadn't made much sense "It just doesn't seem fair." Her eyes dropped, and Dr. Seywell drew backwards in his chair.

"This is all perfectly normal, you will feel cheated and upset – crying is usual too." April shook her head and closed her eyes. Her small pale hands were clutched together in her lap and small short breaths left her lips one after the other quickly.

"I haven't," she mumbled. Dr. Seywell leaned forward once again and tried to catch her eye but her head was bowed.

"Pardon?" he asked. April looked up, a mixture of guilt and shame on her face.

"I haven't. You know at the court hearing – I didn't cry for him, I didn't cry because he was gone – I cried for myself; I'm selfish and self-centered. I haven't cried for him yet – I just feel so dry." She looked sickened with herself; it was a look which could have belonged to Squid – a look of disgust of her own self pity. Dr. Seywell arched a single eyebrow and his spectacles slid down his nose as he analyzed his notes.

"There is no right way to grieve, however if grief is contained, it could cause a later psychological illness," Dr. Seywell drawled almost as if bored, his beady-black eyes scouring across her face. "I want to give you some medication, from what I have heard over the last few days, these may just help," he finished, rummaging through a cabinet in his desk and placing a large bottle of pills on the table. April took the bottle into her hand and read the prescription.

"Antidepressants?" she asked, her eyes mixed with confusion "I don't understand." Dr. Seywell sighed heavily and stood up from his large leather chair, looking down at her, his eyes magnified greatly by his thick spectacles.

"I feel that these will help, they will make you feel better," he assured, a fake waxy smile plastered across his slightly purpling face. April's small hands clenched into fists and her large, round eyes narrowed.

"How will what I feel like change anything?" she asked, her voice harder but still with a soft edge. "He will still be dead. You think I want to be drugged to the point where I won't even remember him! It doesn't mater how I feel." With the final words tumbling from her lips she stood abruptly and flung the bottle at the far window behind Dr. Seywell's desk, making but a small crack on the window pane, but the plastic bottle remained unharmed. Seeing what she had done, April then fisted her hands into her greasy hair and bowed her head, heavy breaths leaving her lips.

Dr. Seywell's beady eyes were set in a mix between anger and shock, but as he opened his mouth to speak the ringing of the phone on his desk sounded throughout the now near silent room. Ignoring the girl in front of him, Dr. Seywell reached for the phone and cleared his throat importantly.

"Hello? Dr. Seywell speaking." There was a short pause as the person on the other side of the phone spoke, with a low mumble "I see. I'll send her straight there." He placed the phone back onto the receiver and then turned to face her, the large grin stretched across his face.

---

Cold sweat had collected at his brow and the pain in his abdomen had faded. Squid tried to open his eyes but his lids were heavy and an overall weakness poured over his muscles. He opened his lips and let escape a low groan, as he tried to move his legs, and yet he was too weak. He gently rocked from side to side trying to wake his aching muscles from their sleep, but in turn he found his wrists bound either side of him with cold metal; most likely cuffs. A small pang of panic ran through his veins and caused him to try and wriggle himself free, but with no avail. His ankles seemed to also be restrained. His eyes finally managed to open and he looked around in panic; only clinical colours greeting him – he seemed to be in a hospital. The betrayal stung inside his chest, but perhaps he should have been prepared for it, Squid decided long ago that trusting someone was just foolish. Another low grunt left his lips as he once again shook within his restraints, the bed beneath his figure shaking and banging into the wall. The drowsiness had left him now, and the sudden rush of energy surged through his veins as he kept shaking the bed, he wasn't really sure what was the pint, he knew escape was impossible from this position so what he was trying to do was even a mystery to himself. Yanking his arm as hard as he could away from the bed side which it was cuffed to, Squid found that the tube inserted into his forearm was ripped painfully away from his skin and the machine next to his bed began to wail in loud short beeps. Many people all clad in white coats rushed into the room along with a few guards, crowding around him as he carried on shaking the bed violently. A needle was stabbed into his skin and he shouted in pain, slowly feeling the drowsiness overtaking him.

---

"After that little episode you had, I'm surprised they even let me see you. They seem shook up; I guess they are hoping a visitor will do you good." Squid could hear this little whisper tingling in his right ear. His body was still aching, but nonetheless he opened his eyes and saw Zigzag, his slick back hair seemed to starting to become disheveled and a film of sweat covered his face. Zigzag drew in a shocked breath and jumped backwards as his widened, worried eyes caught Squid's realizing he was awake. Squid clenched his fists and narrowed his brow angrily at Zigzag.

"You complete bastard!" Squid spat angrily. Zigzag pulled on a mask of cockiness and a smirked, his hand trying in vain to flatten his hair.

"You better watch what you say around me. I mean…" Zigzag paused and looked quickly over his shoulder and then drew his face closer to Squid an air of secrecy hanging over them. "I am the one who can get you out of here. I am the one who can let you see her." Squid's brow relaxed and a jolt of remembrance ran through him at the thought of the girl who had started all of this. Squid relaxed his tensing muscles and allowed his head, which had been hovering about an inch above the pillow, to sink into the soft cloud. "But you can't do any shit like that anymore," Zigzag warned, talking of the resistance Squid had held against the doctors before. "Just do every little thing I tell you, and it will be worth your while." Zigzag rose from the chair he had been resting on and turned to leave the room, where outside stood two burly looking guards, clad with weapons.

"Wait," Squid began, his voice croaky and slightly shaking, "What was that shit you gave me in the prison?" he asked. Zigzag smiled and laughed lightly.

"A home recipe." He then tapped on the door and the guards turned to unlock the door and Zigzag left, the guards locking the door again behind him. Squid had always thought that Zigzag possessed hardly any real intelligence, after all he did get caught and sent to Camp Green Lake, but perhaps Zigzag did contain some genius; it certainly seemed that way now.

---

A patter of feet sounded across the bare deep red floorboards, connected to a pair of stick-like legs. The house was quiet and the howling wind outside battered the large windows, allowing moonlight to spill across the rooms, lighting it with an eerie milky glow. A door was flung open and the patter of feet followed inside the small crampt cupboard under the stairs, the small door closing quickly with a click. April's thoughts raced and her breaths became heavier and shallower. Closing her eyes, she tried to regain her train of thought, but the voice rang in her head like nails on a chalkboard.

"_See you soon! You'll see, you'll see!" _

She didn't understand what he meant – or maybe she did; and that's what frightened her. She had been fine, well as fine as she could be, but it was that call she received while she was with Dr. Seywell. A call from the police, calling her to the station to ask questions about Squid; he had escaped. Her mind was racing along with her heart, blood was pounding in her ears and a loss of breath caused her to feel dizzy. Squid had escaped. The police had told her that he had been hospitalized after collapsing in prison, they had told her he only had one other visitor, which had led to a dead end, it was just some boy Squid had gone tot camp with, they had told her he had seemed in a rage and insane in the hospital, calling out viciously as he slept, lashing out at the doctors and nurses, and now he had escaped. She kept thinking about his promise, over and over, a song stuck on repeat.

"_See you soon! You'll see, you'll see!"_

Her stomach dropped as a sudden thump from above caught her attention. Sick was rising in her throat as she clutched to her knees, quivering wickedly in the cupboard, praying silently in her head, eyes shut tightly. Another thump boomed from above her and she could feel her lungs constricting as she held her breath, clutching her hands together, nails biting into her flesh. Thoughts rushed through her head, was she to run or stay put? If she was to run, she could be caught, but if she was to stay hiding, she could be found. She wished her mother was here, she wished someone was here. She hadn't told the police a thing – she didn't say about Squid's promise to be free again or about his comment to see her soon, she didn't know why, but it just didn't feel right.

"_See you soon! You'll see, you'll see!"_

It had been a while since she had heard anything; each thud had been one after the other with short space in-between, but now was silence. April tried to look through the dark in the small cupboard she was in for something to hide in, alas there only hung a few scarves and a few pairs of shoes. She listened out for any sound, but it was only the wind's howl she could hear, so she slowly opened the door, letting herself out of the cupboard. Maybe she was being paranoid – she wasn't sure. She glanced around and saw everything seemed to be unchanged, unmoving like it was suspended in time. Creeping forth she approached the bottom of the stairs and there lying before her she found the subject of the noise. Her father looked like a thrown rag doll as his limp body laid spread eagle across a few steps near the top of the stairs. April gasped and almost felt guilty as her heart's pace began to slow – there wasn't a murder coming to get her, it was only her father who had stumbled a few steps down the stairs, and that was the word that scared her – _only. _However, she ignored the guilt as she rushed up the stairs.

"Dad? Can you hear me?" she called. Her father groaned and she approached him. Already she could smell the alcohol on him and she was still feet away. Her father had begun heavy drinking since the news about David surfaced. "You know you shouldn't be drinking," she sighed, kneeling beside him. The room was dark and only the outline of his figure could be seen. "Okay, I'm going to try and help you up, okay?" she said, taking hold behind his back, her other hand resting on his chest, which felt oddly damp. As the smell of alcohol grew on her, April could smell a slight tinge of something else, something that made her feel sick. Resting his body back onto the stairs, April held up her hand to the strip moonlight on the stairs, and gazed in disgust at the gleam of red staining her skin. Looking down at her father's chest, she could only now recognize the pool of oozing blood pouring from his chest, soaking his shirt. April let out a blood-curdling scream but froze and footsteps approached.

"Hey there April, doesn't look like you're doin' too good. Why don't you come with me?" April slowly turned afraid of who she would see. But as she looked to the bottom of the stairs, Squid stood, the moonlight lighting his face with sinister eyes glinting in the light along with a cold smirk twisted on his lips.

---

_Sorry for the major lack of an update, but I hope this rather longer chapter makes up for it. Please review, thank you!_


	8. Strike

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – I tried to get this one out as soon as I could as my last update took so long. _

_Cityofevil – Thanks for another wonderful review. I think we defiantly have the same idea about the whole crazy boys thing. Well I really tried to get this out extra quick for you._

_aries200- Thanks greatly for the review! I hope you read on and enjoy this chapter, I tried to keep it building up suspense. _

_Chapter Eight_

"_Strike" _

---

Squid could feel the blood rushing through him; his veins were tingling and his head felt light. His eyes settled on April as she knelt protectively next to her father, watching her carefully, absorbing every breath she took and every slight quiver convulsing through her weedy body. Was he supposed to feel sorry, for killing not only her brother but trying to kill her father too? Why couldn't she see, he was doing it all for her? He was trying to help her, her parents were making her miserable, she had to get away from them – but if he couldn't get to her he could at least dispose of them. His own body was shaking like a leaf, with what only felt like excitement and triumph – he knew she would thank him one day, thank him for all he has given up for her. How could she say it was his fault when she was the one who did this to him – she can't just capture his every thought and then suddenly refuse to be around him, she can't invade his mind with thoughts of her and then retreat leaving him unfulfilled. She was so far within his mind that he wouldn't let her escape now, this was more than a simple craving; it was a need.

He watched as her stick-like arms wrapped around her father's body and tried to carefully and slowly as if unbeknown to him, lift him with her and scurry up the stairs, further away from him. She was trying to drag him upwards with her. The knife in Squid's hand gleamed with menace in the silvery moonlight, which caught April's eye and she froze. For a moment Squid just stood, gazing at her, from her ratty unkempt hair to her bare pale feet – he was mesmerized. But his focus broke as April stood up fully and began to drag her father hurriedly up the stairs, although with the little strength she possessed, she struggled. Squid lunged forwards, jumping two steps at a time to reach her, but his legs felt like liquid and he crumpled on one of the steps, his foot catching the edge of the step but the knife stayed securely wrapped in his fist. Squid jumped to his feet, only to see April turn the corner, out of sight from where he stood on the stairs, her father being dragged with her.

"April, I'm here to help you - come here." Squid leapt up the stairs and followed suit around the corner only to see a hallways of about six doors all the way along, each closed. Creeping forward, Squid held the knife in his hand upright and ready to strike. "April, why are you hiding from me? You need me, you fucking need me!" His voice was shaking terribly and his head was spinning.

April's breath was hitched in her throat and she tried to sooth her father's groans and she knew if he kept on making noise, Squid would find them. She looked down at her father's wound to the stomach and lifted the bottom of his shirt to see properly, to see he was cut deep. She had to get him to a hospital; she had to call an ambulance. She could hear Squid's raspy voice calling out for her; she didn't know what he wanted from her. Her thoughts were fluttering inside her head, like a flock of unsure butterflies. She couldn't save David, but she could still save her father. She couldn't keep being selfish – she had to think of her family for once. Lifting herself from the floor where she sat, holding her father, April slowly opened the door leading back into the hallway where Squid was waiting for her. She opened the door and stepped out, not daring to look back. Her eyes immediately locked with Squid's, his lips twisting into a smirk as he cocked his head to the side; a fatigue of fake innocence falling over him, a chuckle escaping past his lips. She stood unsurely in front of him, parted by a few meters, her hands clutched together and her eyes focused on his, a film of plea in them.

"Please, let my father get to the hospital." She looked up to see that he hadn't moved. Gathering all the bravery she had, she stepped forward, just an inch. "Let him live and I'll go with you – I'll go willingly…just please," her words were falling from her quivering lips and she could feel the steaming sick bubbling in her stomach and the fear rushing through her veins. She once again dared to look up at him and saw the smile on his face widen.

"But April, he wants to keep us apart – can't you see, he wants to keep you away from me. I can't have that April, you can't stay his forever. I'm sorry." April dropped to her knees and shook harder, her face contorting into disgust. Squid knew he shouldn't have said that word – that vile word, which he loathed so much – but he wanted her trust.

"Sorry? Are you really sorry for what you have done? Are you really sorry for what you did to David – to my family – are you?" April was shouting hysterically, her throat ripping words out into the open, giving them a rough edge of pain. April's nails clawed at the floor.

"No" Squid replied levelly. "I'm sorry that I can't be truly sorry for what I have done. I'm can't be sorry, for this has to be one of the only right things I've done in my life, it brought me to you April – it brought us together, can't you see?" He began edging forward, his arms outstretched as if to grasp her, and she scurried back. "This was a miracle April, it was fate." The bullshit flowing from his mouth made even he sick, but that's how he felt. April's back hit a door at the end of the corridor and she clung to the fixtures on the wall childishly.

"Why can't you see that I don't want anything to do with you," she seethed. "Why can't you understand that I was stupid and confused to even visit you – I thought it would help, but it doesn't change the fact that it was you who killed him, it doesn't change the fact that you are a vile human being?" Squid stood in front of her, the knife still in hand and he smiled down at her, a dreamy look in his eyes. She cowered pathetically at his feet, clutching her knees to her chest tightly.

"Fine, I call an ambulance, save your father and you come with me." April looked up and saw his dark eyes shadowing malice, glinting with intentions she wished she could ignore; his mouth twisted ugly into a smirk on what would otherwise be classic handsome features. He held out his large, rough hand, stained slightly with what she guessed to be her father's blood. Her own curled up fist, twitched as she reached forward and landed in his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin – which certainly clashed with his personality, compared to her cold hand. She refused to look him in the eye as she stood with him, him standing from where he crouched and her sliding her back up the wall until she stood.

"I would have thought you would be cold," April whispered, her eyes shut and she spoke with more curiosity then malice. Squid pulled her by her hand roughly.

"Where's the nearest phone in this place?" he asked. April's other hand pointed at a door just a few meters away from them and Squid pulled them both in the room which seemed to be a sort of study, strolled over to the phone and lifted it from the receiver. He spoke briefly to the emergency services, only revealing the address before hanging up and hurriedly pulling April downstairs with him, out the front door, towards a banged up vehicle.

He paused for a moment and looked down at her, her face completely calm and serene as though sleeping or dead. His rough hand squeezed hers tightly and he watched discomfort flicker over face.

"You repulse me," April spat suddenly; her eyes now open revealing disgust and anger. Squid shoved the knife quickly into his pocket, within the case and gripped tightly to her shoulder, his smirk still apparent through what seemed like anger.

"Alan, call me Alan, April. Say my name for me," he whispered, his voice deep and intense. April's lips tightened and her face looked strained.

"But that is not who you are, is it, Squid. I didn't really understand your nickname at first – but oh I get it now. You are just like a Squid aren't you, slimy and repulsive." Squid just chuckled, watching her eyes narrow even further. He opened the passenger side of the car door and pushed her roughly inside. Squid then sat in the driver's seat and turned to see her face buried in her hands.

"Don't be scared sweetheart, I'm here," he whispered. She looked up and turned to him, her eyes locked with his, no tears to be seen.

"But can't you see that fact is the exact reason that makes me scared."

---

_Author's Note – I hope you like this chapter. Please review and tell me anything, if I'm doing a bad job, a good job, what to improve and so on. Thank You!_


	9. Sunken Knives

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Okay a small bundle of the plot is revealed in this chapter, and I'm really sorry if it's confusing, if you have any questions or need to know what's going on just ask._

_Cityofevil – Thanks so much for taking the time to review! I think we all secretly want to get in that car. Thanks for the compliments; I assure you it is lovely to hear someone likes the story and my writing. _

_Horsesareamazing – It's alright, I don't expect as many reviews as I have gotten. But it was really lovely that you take your time to review. I made sure this update didn't take too long for you. Thanks for the review. _

_HunkyChunkyMonkey97030 – Thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you want to hear more, as there is plenty to come as long as people are still reading – more secrets hidden up my sleeve, which are yet to be revealed. _

_Chapter Nine_

"_Sunken Knives"_

---

Squid's heart was racing. What was he doing? He dared not look at the quivering girl next to him; he dared not look at the blood splattered across his clothing. He could feel the comprehension of what he had done, sink into stomach, gushing in, flooding his insides with ache. His mother's face momentarily flickered into his sight and he swerved dangerously on the road – April didn't even seem to notice. She was sitting up straight, glassy eyes out of focus and pale hands placed calmly on her lap. She looked like one of those old, frail people, that you see sitting up in their hospital bed – weeks maybe months after they have been told they are soon going to die. She looked like she had accepted her fate.

A harsh pang erupted in Squid's chest as the leer of his father flicked in front of his eyes and once again the car swerved severely on the clear deserted road. His breaths were quick and pained as he decided to pull the car over onto the side of the road and stop, allowing himself to breath and bury his face in his shaking hands. April sat completely still, nothing but the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed moved.

"Just stop fucking shaking!" he cursed at himself, his fists pounding hard onto his knees, as if punishing himself. Squid's forehead rested on the wheel of the car and his hands twisted into his hair.

"I'm sorry." Squid turned his head to face the young girl next to him, to only see her wide eyes gazing back, sympathy pooling in them. Her voice was so gentle, all her anger seemed to have evaporated and all traces of fear seemed to have gone with it. "I can't say anything else to you, Alan, I didn't know her – I don't know you." Squid sat up straight and slammed his hand violently down onto the leather seat. He could feel his exterior breaking; falling away from his body causing his blood to flush out of him. "People will just give advice, or expect you to start anew, or just go out and pick up where you left off. They're not expecting you to change - but you do, and you just feel so empty inside like no person should ever have to." Squid wanted her to stop talking. He turned sharply towards her and leant forward grabbing her boney arm, cold to the touch.

"It isn't fucking fair, April," Squid seethed, watching her try to turn away, so he gripped her jaw and forced her to look him in the eyes. "Your loathsome brother dies, and everyone cares, people wept for him, people will remember," he began, his voice harsh and cruel "But…but when she died – when my mother was killed - murdered, April. Who cared for her, who wept, who will fucking remember?" His voice was shattering, ringing out throughout the car – his insides were twisting as he was forced to remember. His nails were biting into her skin, but at that moment he wanted her to feel what he was feeling, he wanted her to feel his pain – he wanted someone to understand. He didn't understand what was happening, but he could feel his eyes bleeding with ache, the droplets spilling down his rough cheeks as he forced April to look at him. "I see her April, I see her every fucking day. Always telling me what a pile of shit I am - and it's true. After she died, that's when I killed your brother – I want to be sorry for you, April, I really do, but who was sorry for her. The police did jack shit and there was no justice for her! After I embedded that knife into your brother, watching him double over and bleed to death – I saw my mother April, you may say it was my imagination, but I saw her and all she said was how she never wanted to see my ugly bastard face again. I just don't understand." Squid released April and punched himself hard in the cheek, punishing himself for so much self-pity, for letting everything fall apart, for allowing his emotions to get the better of him.

"You of all people should understand. We have the same questions, Alan, we have the same needs," her voice was still soft, and she allowed the blood droplets fall from her face, not wiping them away – but wearing her pain without shame. Squid snorted and roughly wiped his face, grabbing hold of the steering wheel again, he carried on along the long empty road.

---

The car paused as they reached a thick wood of trees, with a road just running past it. However, the car did not follow down the road; Squid began to maneuver carefully into the wood of tall trees until they were lost, deep within the forestry, only trees surrounding them. The car had been squeezed between trees and a few dents and scratches had been gained along the way, but nevertheless Squid decided it was the safest way to stay out of the public eye.

"What do expect to do? Hide forever, they will find us," April questioned. Squid kept silent and began to rummage in the back seat, pushing boxes out of the way to clear a space. The backseat was now clear, and showed a few rips into the leather of the seat and old remains of foods crumbled over the seats.

"That's where you sleep," he told her sternly, readjusting his own seat to slightly lean backwards. April sighed and rubbed her weary eyes; it wasn't until now that he noticed a slight distance in her eyes as she looked at him, her shoulders sagging, her face sullen – she just looked so pathetic, so tired in defeat.

"I can't sleep," she whispered, her voice beginning to sound scratchy. Squid cocked an eyebrow and screwed up his face in confusion. He was going to ask how she couldn't get to sleep, as she looked so tired – but deep down he knew. He knew he wouldn't really manage to get much sleep either; he couldn't stand seeing his mother's face anymore.

"Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want," he replied harshly. Squid turned onto his side, but kept his eyes open, gazing into the inside of the car door, in which he faced. It was only now that Squid could feel the cold sweat trickling down his back, and it sent shivers down his spine. Trying to ignore the cold, Squid closed his sore eyes and tried to think of anything other than his mother – but really he should be thinking about her, he knew he should. It was just so hard to comprehend that she was really gone when she was never really there in the first place. He never really knew his own mother; he would never know if she could roll her tongue, or whether she could whistle. Nobody really knew his mother. It was then that Squid realized how lonely it must have been for her. After he was sent away to camp, she must have been so lonely; lonely enough to try and kill herself, maybe, or maybe even lonely enough for her to spur someone on to kill her. Squid could feel his eye-balls swelling with the heat of un-ushered tears, but he kept them back – he wasn't ready to mourn for her, he wasn't ready to fully let her go yet. She was still with him, before he finally accepted the fact that she is gone – she is still with him. It didn't matter what any fucking letter said, she was still with him. The letter – he had tried to blur that memory away. He ha received the letter concerning his mother's death while he was still in Camp Green Lake, and all he could do, ever so coldly, was to brush it aside – carry on laughing and joking around, for he didn't care – no, he couldn't care about her, it just hurt too damn much.

The self sympathy pooling in his stomach, was making him feel angry at himself for being so selfish. It didn't matter how much it _"hurt"_ or how much he would cry like a pathetic teenager – he couldn't keep pitying himself. He clenched his fists and pulled them into his chest, trying to contain the need to hit himself. Squid sat up and turned to face April, her face so calm and serene, her eyes shut, and body twisted on the chair into the fetal position. She looked so childlike as she laid still, although a slight quiver convulsing through her body and he momentarily wondered whether it was due to the cold or something else. He almost hated himself for the tainted thoughts running through his mind concerning such an innocent girl. But he knew she wasn't a flower of stone – he could see her withering in front of him, her petals dying and wilting, turning so pale – the veins becoming easily seen, they're bluish tinge giving her a slightly glowing effect on his eyes.

"I'm not her." Squid was pulled from his trance as he saw April open her eyes, her voice ringing through his ears. "I can't be your mother." Squid frowned and felt almost angry at her for speaking and moving – it ruined the illusion he was building in his mind.

"I never wanted you to be," he replied sternly. April sat up and turned away from him, looking out the window.

"You forced me into this club, Squid; you want me to be exactly like you. You need someone to be damaged before you can trust their actions to be pure," April said softly. "I told you clearly what I wanted from you. Now you've got to tell me, Squid…" April paused as her voice got stronger, and she turned to face Squid, her eyes set in question. "What do you want from me?" Squid's eyes were locked upon her as she sat, staring awaiting back at him, his hand reached forward and he once again caught hold of her chin, April shuddered away from his touch, but his other hand was then fisted in the back of her hair, pulling her to face him, a slight smile across his lips.

"I'm not sure if you'd want me to tell you." April's eyes shut in fear and disgust as he advanced forward,

---

_Author's Note – I really hope you understand this chapter, but feel free to ask anything you don't understand and I also hope you caught onto all the little hints in the chapter as to what is to come. Please review, even if it's just to tell me how bad the story is. Thank you!_


	10. With Dawn, Brings Hope

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – I'll admit I got a bit carried away with this chapter, sorry it drags on a bit and that it may seem that nothing happens, but I'm sure that this chapter does hold some important information for later in the story._

_Cityofevil – To be quite honest, I'm not really sure if Squid has feelings for her. The way I take it, is that he's just been alone for so long, and any one who takes slight interest into him, and I mean pure interest where they aren't gaining anything, he will be drawn. He just wants someone to understand. But I will say that I do think Squid is very fascinated by her and the way she acts. Thanks for the wonderful review._

_Narutorules03 – Thanks so much for the absolutely lovely review. It's wonderful to hear that someone thinks my writing isn't too childish, I do make silly mistakes but sometimes I just want to get a chapter out as quickly as I can. I'm glad that my story touched you somewhat and thank you for the compliments. This review was much appreciated! _

_HunkyChunkyMonkey97030 – I'm sorry for leaving you with a bit of a cliffhanger but hopefully this longer chapter will make you forgive me. I'm so glad that you like my story and I really appreciate your reviews and it always makes me happy when I get to read them. Thanks once again for the lovely review!_

_Chapter Ten_

"_With Dawn, Brings Hope"_

---

April quivered uncontrollably as Squid came towards her, his eyes filled with something she'd never quite seen before, it looked like want. Closing her eyes she tried to control her breathing and stop her heart from racing, but the fear was suffocating her.

"I don't want this," she whispered, choking upon her own short breaths. Her eyes were closed as she spoke, and the small digs on her face, where Squid had caused her to bleed had stopped weeping; even her pain was halted in the sharp silence. Squid paused and allowed his hard brown eyes to really look at her – to see the pathetic bundle of human in front of him; quivering because of him.

"You may not want it, April," he began, his voice as soft as he could bear. April's eyes opened; her once young I stare was replaced by a tiresome, gaze filled with terror she wished she could just let it go and not let it bother her. "But you need it," he said, his rough hand reaching out towards her. "You need _me,_" Squid finally finished emphasizing on the last word and then allowed his large hand to land on her icy cold fist, which remained balled up; he noticed she flinched at his touch. He watched as she swallowed hard and locked eyes with him.

"What I ne-need, is – is the thing you took from me," she was forcing the words out, and each word seemed to build up a battle within her, Squid could see the conflict under skin. She seemed angry at herself for stuttering.

"You think you need your brother? That fucking phony that-" Squid's sentence was cut short as April shook her head.

"No…not my brother, not my – not my m-mother, nor my father…" she said softly. Squid was confused but he didn't say a word. His heart was racing and his own head was fighting against him as he leant forwards once more. His desire had been to kiss her at that moment, but instead his lips landed clumsily on her cheek as she turned her head abruptly, hiding away from him. Squid pulled back and looked at her tiny body shiver, the car nor the air was cold, it was her. He had taken something from her, she was that piece of paper and he was what had caused that droplet of blood to smudge across the page, he had tainted it, screwed it up and thrown it away.

His rough hand retracted from hers and gripped back onto the steering wheel. He swallowed the sick rising in his throat and clenched his jaw, trying to hold in the thoughts that were swelling inside of him. His heart was in his stomach and his lungs were constricted tightly as he held even in his breath. The strong hands holding the steering wheel were shaking and his lip was caught in-between his teeth as he bit down harshly on it. "You can't keep running. You can't escape what you've done – what's been done to you. There's no healing for you, while you're with me, no remorse," her voice was bolder now; she turned to face him and gazed at him with those expressive eyes. Squid allowed his hands to drop from the wheel onto his lap but he didn't face her. He could feel the coldness spread in his chest and freeze his heart beat.

"Maybe that's what I want – I shouldn't have to feel remorse for him, death does not make you a good person." Squid paused. He had hoped that the coldness inside of him would make the ache inside numb, but the pang was even harsher. He slowly turned to face her, facing that wide, innocent gaze. "And what do I even have left to _heal_?" Squid asked, his voice softer now. He wasn't looking for sympathy or pity – he was looking for understanding, he was trying to explain himself, the words were honest to him. April didn't reply and bit down on her bottom lip, sucking in the ache.

"Why him, Alan? Why my brother? I never asked before, but I want to know," she asked, choking out the words through quivering lips. Squid looked down and turned away from her.

"I don't know." His words were final, and his tone was desperate. April stripped the seat-belt from around her waist and turned towards the car door, opening it and stepped out of the car, her feet meeting the cold dirt. Squid didn't stop her, but he turned around to see her bowing down into the dirt, her knees sinking into the dirt slightly and her forehead resting on her hands, lying on the mud. The moon's glow hit her form and instead of leaving a beautiful glow upon her – it looked like she was drowning. Her nails dragged angrily along the dirt and a dry sob escaped past her lips. "You're pathetic you know?" he called to her, his tone was biting. April turned abruptly her hair pushed away from her face and her eyes were dangerously narrowed.

"You are a cruel, poor excuse for a human being!" she snapped, her chest was heaving and he noted tears still hadn't shed from her eyes. Squid smirked condescendingly at her, his eyes sharp and focused on her.

"And you are exactly the same," he replied coolly. "We are the same," he carried on, slowly slipping out of the car, watching the breath get caught in her chest and fear bubble in her eyes, body flinching and he approached closer, hurriedly crawling backwards in desperation to keep away from him. "Don't hesitate, April," he cooed, eyes set in hunger; for what, she couldn't be sure. "This is what we need, nothing matters – nothing matters." Her back hit a tree trunk and she used it to gather her strength to stand on her unsteady legs. She shook her head and her teeth chattered, from the cold wrapping around her body.

"This is exactly what you don't understand, Squid," she spat, watery-blue's piercing through him. "It does matter – everything matters – **everyone** matters. It isn't up to you to decide who deserves to live, you can't decide who is worthy of life!" she was shouting now, the noise ripping from her insides. "You need to understand that what doesn't matter to you," April paused, her body quivering violently – her voice fading in her own breaths. "Will always matter to someone." Squid felt the moment suspend and his head spin. The questions flooded into his brain and it was the first time he recognized the heavy regret in her – playing upon her features, sinking in her eyes, ripping from her voice.

"What did you do, April?" he asked. He watched as she inhaled deeply; she hadn't expected that. She didn't say a word, but was frozen staring at him with wild eyes. "You feel guilty that he died. I mean I ain't some kind of therapist, but I've heard that they say that family will usually always feel guilt; but not like this." He knew it was starting to sound like he cared at that moment, but the curiosity had captured him. He could see her shrinking away – the fragile petals fraying and wilting in their last attempt to cover the center – protect it. "You ain't a phony – you feel for what happened to him, not for what happened to you because of it. What did you do, April?" he was beginning to sound soft and he knew it.

The crunchy brown leaves around them, circled in the wind as they stood in silence, the howling wind capturing the mood and yowled in anticipation.

"You don't care – you can't care, Squid," she whispered so quietly, he wondered how the small string of words had reached him. He went to step forward, but she let out a small cry of protest.

"Alan, my name is Alan," he replied – although he wasn't sure why he had thought it was important to say that. She shook her head.

"I only call you Alan when you act like him," she countered. Squid's eyes narrowed and he felt anger fill his veins once again.

"You don't know me," he spat. April didn't hesitate or even think abut the answer.

"I don't pretend to." Squid felt confused at that moment – but it didn't really care to listen to her anymore, it only made him feel worse; he almost wished he could be rotting away in his cell again. Dawn seemed to be arriving and with it, Squid knew they should get moving – what's the point? The question echoed in his mind, but he decided he wouldn't dwell on it. "I like dawn." Squid's eyes focused back on April as she stood gazing intently directly back at him, her voice sounded as raspy as his, but did not possess the cruel edge that his has, it sounded true. "The day is just beginning and it means you still have hope." April's eyes were closed as she spoke this time, her body ever so gently swaying, most likely due to lack of energy and good balance. He could feel his jaw clenching as her soft voice repeated in his head. He could feel himself resenting her at that moment, and he wasn't even so sure why.

"Hope for what?" he snapped back at her, the rough edge of anger had returned to his voice.

"Something – anything," she replied. He could tell by the determined look his her eyes that she truly believed the bullshit she was saying "It's what you need, Alan. You need some hope back in your life." Squid stormed towards her, too quickly for her to realize his intentions, and he gripped her arm tightly, glaring at her, his face close enough to feel her short warm breaths on his face as he bowed close to her.

"That is absolute bullshit. I don't need nothing' – there ain't no hope left; not for me," Squid spoke with the anger dripping from his words, his hand squeezing her arm hard enough to cut off blood circulation – but she allowed him to hold her up like a rag doll as though she couldn't even feel it. His other hand grasped her jaw as she tried to turn away, forcing her to look at him.

"I told him I wished he was dead." The words were hushed, but he heard them, the pure words rung in his head like the soft stroke of a guitar string. The wind and the rustling of the trees were silenced as they breathed ever so gently. The petals had fallen away, now lying forgotten on the floor, the beauty of the flower gone, leaving the remains, the center of the flower exposed, gazing back at him; bare and naked for only his eyes to see. His grip had loosened without him even thinking about it and his hand had dropped from her jaw and hung by his side, the coldness of the wind catching it. April's eyes closed for a moment, her lips sucking in the cool air, filling her lungs, only to release it again and as her eyes opened again, Squid noticed they were glistening in the pool of light from the moon, large and watery, filling her lids and tipping tears over the edge of her lashes and spilling down her cheeks. Although the tears were there, her face was expressionless like a doll, gazing at him. He liked it when she cried; it wasn't fake or preformed – it was real. "I can't blame my mother for telling him to leave the house that day, I can't blame my father for refusing him to drive him there, I can't blame God for giving us freewill and I can't even blame you, Alan. And whether there truly is a God doesn't really matter to me anymore, sure it's nice to believe it's not your fault and that it is all part of God's great plan for you, but I can't delude myself anymore. Call it coincidence, but I told my brother that I wish he would die, and the same day he does – it is my fault and there is no remedy for that."

---

_Author's note – Please review! Thank you._


	11. Proximity

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer – I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption. _

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – I am so sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I've had heavy writer's block hanging over me. So I must say I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter but I couldn't stand to leave you guys any longer._

_JainaZekk621 – April is about fifteen, which makes this infatuation that Squid has with her all the more creepy. Thank you so much for the review!_

_sc12321 – Thank you so much for reviewing. I'm glad to hear that you enjoy the story so far, so sorry for the long wait, but I've already started on the next chapter so hopefully I will have that out quicker._

_HunkyChunkyMonkey97030 – I'm glad you like it so far, and I'm trying to put in some more interaction between April and Squid for you. Thank you for reviewing!_

_Cityofevil – I'm so glad that you decided to read all the chapters in a row, I think that way you might pick up some clues and such. As for the abuse, I will say that there is going to be a definite revelation on the subject of abuse surrounding Squid and his mother, I don't want to ruin the surprise, but well spotted by the way! To be honest I think you have a tighter grasp with what is going on with the characters than I do, you have thought it through and stripped it wonderfully and found the key factors. And I agree that I don't think Squid 'loves' April, but there is a definite tone of desire. Thanks so much for the review._

_Chapter Eleven_

"_Proximity"_

---

Even though day had returned, the light was unable to spill through the dense tops of the trees and so it was only the tiny sparks of light that managed the light the small forest dimly with an almost eerie effect. Birds twittered and sung as the new day was still fresh and the winter's frost had begun to melt away in the Sun's warm breath. It was an unusual occurrence for the slightest sign of warmer weather in Winter, the Sun was usually shunned behind the thick clod of grey clouds leaving the world in hibernation, waiting and holding their breath for the return of the warmth. The warm weather seemed to act as a warning; a warning showing something was wrong – out of place.

April watched curiously as Squid began to move about the car, throwing useless trash out of the car and rearranging the stuff he had in the trunk of the car.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Squid's head, which was burrowed in the trunk as he moved things about, didn't even bother to look at her.

"We're gonna' go get some supplies," he mumbled the reply.

"Of course." She didn't challenge him; she didn't think there was much point putting up a fight. She didn't mention the fact that an escaped murderer and a person who was probably filed missing could just walk into a store without gaining attention and being recognised. It didn't matter. It wouldn't matter whether she stayed with him, or if she was taken back home – it was all the same, she was still the same. The trunk door slammed shut, pulling her from her thoughts and Squid returned to her side at the wheel of the car, his brow furrowed in contempt. His hands grasped the wheel, but it didn't seem like he was going to make any attempt at starting the car as he sat gazing outside the front screen.

"I don't think I could trust you to go into a store by yourself and not snitch on me, so I guess I'm going to make you a deal," Squid said, in his low, gruff Southern drawl. April turned to look at him, but his eyes were still focused in front of him – gazing blankly. "If you just do as I say – no more dead family members." She saw him face her from the corner of her eye. She knew he would have that repulsive smirk on his face, with that sick amusement twinkling in his eyes, so she didn't even want to look at him. She should have known not to believe him, she should have just made a run for it; but she didn't. That's the strange thing with some people; when you're so desperate to believe that something is true, you really do start to convince yourself.

"Deal." His rough hand grasped hers and he shook it almost gently, as if trying to gain her trust.

"We leave at dusk."

---

The store was near empty with only a teen at the cashier's counter, his eyes only briefly passing over April before looking back down at the floor. She looked down at the inside of her pale forearm and re-read over the list of things Squid had written down, in his messy scrawl that she was to buy – the horrid blank ink slightly smudged across her arm due to the slight drizzle of rain. April looked down at the large shoes covering her feet and momentarily wished she would have grabbed a pair from home rather than having to wear a pair of Squid's, as they flopped at every step she took even though the laces had been tied as tightly as the shoes would allow.

"Juice," she read quietly aloud, her eyes glancing around the store and she followed her eyes' path towards the large cartons of juice packaged in packs of six. Her hand gripped tightly at the plastic handle and her meek arm tried to hold up the weight of the cartons, and as pathetic as it was, she found it a struggle to hold the cartons up. Pausing to build up some strength she lifted the cartons and let it hang in her hand by her side.

"Need any help?" April whipped around and saw the cashier standing in front of her, causing her to jump and the juice fall from her hand, hitting the floor and the juice began to ooze from its cardboard container, only the plastic covering keeping it in.

"I'm so sorry," April hurriedly apologised and dropped onto her knees, trying her best to stop the juice from spilling onto the floor. "I can pay for it, and clean it up – I'm so s…" April's sentence paused, as she felt the cashier's hand briefly land on her shoulder – it may have only been a touch to console her, but she could feel her self holding her breath and flinching.

"It's alright. But maybe this time you should use a trolley." The cashier's voice was friendly and his smile was genuine. April nodded and smiled meekly, before hurriedly grabbing a trolley from the front of the store and quickly grabbing all the supplies on the list. April brought the trolley to the counter and one by one she placed each item on the desk, as the cashier swiped them and put them in a bag.

"That'll be $75.23, please." April momentarily locked eyes with him as she handed him the money, her eyes silently pleading that he would notice something was wrong. Her eyes were wide and pleading, staring at the cashier. She kept a tight grip on the notes and the cashier held on just the same, his eyes still caught with hers. She thought she saw a flicker of concern in his eyes for a moment. Help me, help me she repeated it over and over in her head but the cashier had already broken the stare, a small smile now formed across his lips - all concern lost within his cashier routine. "Here's your change, have a nice day," he said, a jolly tone attached to his words. _Fool. _She gathered the bags, turned and left.

---

Only the quiet roar of the engine sounded throughout the car journey, as both Squid and April sat in silence, the dark night wrapping itself around them, the scene dark with only the glow of the moon placing a strip of light across their faces, enlightening them in the dark.

"You haven't even asked where we're goin'," Squid remarked, his eyes still set on the near empty road.

"Like it matters," she replied in monotone. Squid slammed his hand on the wheel in frustration and swore profusely.

"You should be fucking thanking me, April!" he exclaimed, hid voice ringing out throughout the car, the innocent silence broken by his gruff voice. "I saved you from that abandoning bitch of a mum, and that phoney fuck of a brother." His hand reached out for her, and grasped her disgustingly thin arm – she didn't attempt to move away from him. The rough pad of his thumb stroked the skin of her arm and he found himself feeling disgusted by his own action so he ripped his hand away from her and focused on the road once more. "Here we are," Squid grumbled. April's eyes met with what looked like a beaten down motel, the clichéd flickering neon sign was unreadable due to the brightness playing tricks on her eyes, so April turned her attention on the rather heavy-weight man who sat staring at the car from the small building departed from the rest of the motel, a pane of glass with speaker holes allowing him to speak to the entrants. The man's eyes were half-closed with a certain air of perhaps drunkenness surrounding him, down from his slanting posture as she lazed in a chair, to the dumb slopes of his features. Squid roughly pushed a cap atop April's head, her face now heavily shadowed and hard to make out, then placing a cap on his own head, halting the car next to the pane of glass which behind the man sat. The man attempted to straighten up as the car's window rolled down, but it only caused him to wobble in his seat, so he remained slump as Squid turned slightly towards him, head bowed and face shadowed.

"Jus' fer' tonigh', please," Squid's southern drawl had become much thicker as he spoke to the man behind the glass, and it seemed his voice had the shadow of one much older than he. The man grumbled and reached behind him, clutched a hanging key on the wall and slipped it under the semi-circle cut in the glass, resting on the wooden ledge. Squid's rough hand grabbed the key and nodded his head in thanks.

"$45," grunted the man. Squid burrowed into his pocket and pulled out the money then placing it n the wooden ledge, which led the man to greedily snatch it up, in his chubby hand. April gazed out of the rolled down window, and could feel the cool air play upon her face, her eyes capturing the browning leaves dancing as they scattered across the concrete. She could understand the rustling language of the leaves, forever being pushed around by the forceful wind, being scraped and battered along the concrete before they are finally torn apart and only the remains which go unseen eventually settle on the earth and die without movement. The window was then abruptly shut and so were her eyes.

The motel room was small, with a strange musky smell that clung to their noses as they stepped inside, Squid slamming the door hard behind him. The walls were off-white with multiple stains and marks, which they decided to ignore. The bed sheets were chintz with a matching armchair placed in the corner of the cramped room, next to a door leading into bathroom, tiled awkwardly with yellowing white slabs, which looked like they we meant for a pavement.

"Come here." April abruptly turned away from the disgusting little room and followed Squid's gruff call into the bathroom where he stood running the sink; his hand checking the temperature. April stood next to him but didn't say a word, her eyes now focused on her reflection in the large mirror behind the sink. She hadn't looked at her reflection in long time, and she wondered when she had become so gaunt and ghostly pale. Her hair had grown longer so it would hang in straggly tresses to her elbows, it was disgustingly greasy and lank; she didn't see the point of washing when you would never feel clean anyway. Her skin had paled to a point that her blue veins were perfectly clear and her large watery eyes were marred with dark circles around them. She didn't think it had made her look older; she thought it made her look ill. "Kneel in front of me," Squid grunted, pulling her away from her train of thought. Her face contorted in fear, but nonetheless she knelt in front of him, her back now to the mirror and sink. Squid's gruff hands pulled back the hair from her face and allowed it to plop into the sink filled with reasonably hot water. "You need to learn how to fucking look after yourself," he grumbled. His hands ran through the tangled mess and he pulled her hair so she would bow her head backwards to get her roots in the sink. The shampoo smelt fresh of perhaps some sort of flower and was cold as he poured a large amount into his hand, before scrubbing it harshly on her hair.

"Please," April squeaked. Squid stopped scrubbing and momentarily looked at himself in the mirror. He looked older than he last remembered; he looked crueller than he last remembered. Shaking away the thought he began to scrub her hair harder than before.

"Please what?" he asked gruffly. April sighed and winced as a hard tug on her had caused her neck to hit the sink bowl.

"Please tell me why him, Squid."His heart pounded uncomfortably and dropped into his stomach as the thought flickered in his mind, closing his eyes he scrubbed harsher, not caring how he was hurting her, not caring about anything – he may have been the one washing her hair, but he was trying washing away - something slightly deeper.

"Fuck!" He swore opening his eyes and looking at his now sore, red hands shaking. Gripping the side of the sink bowel, he breathed deeply and pulled April up by her soapy hair. He looked at her and tried not to see _his _face, not to see that phoney's grin penetrating his mind on the front page of that newspaper. Though Squid would never admit it, he had cried when his mother had died, looking for comfort and closure, he had looked in the local newspaper only to be greeted with that bastard's stupid smirk, then flicking furiously through the paper, he found a small column on his mother's murder, right next to an advert for kitchen cleaner – it wasn't fair.

"Please."Squid's eyes finally focused on the real person standing in front of him and then a cruel snarl plastered across his features.

"_Oh please, pleeease,_"Squid mimicked a girlish tone clinging to the words. His rough hand grabbed her am and pushed her through the bathroom door back into the main room. "Don't you get it yet, April?" he smirked cruelly. "Don't you understand what I am capable of? You should be scared shitless, April."She could see his eyes gleaming callously as he pushed her once again, her back hitting the wall. Coming close to her, he grabbed her by her shoulders and crushed her into the wall. "Don't you see? Can't you see?" he words were manic and her heart was pulsating harshly against her protruding ribs. The wet tresses slapped against the wall as she whipped her face side to side, trying to wriggle free, until finally hanging like a rag doll; his arms giving her support. His eyes were wide, frantic and frightening; she wished to see the flicker of human, but only this robot remained; unable to feel human affection, pity or any emotions. "You want this, April." She thought he was more trying to convince himself rather than her.

"Go ahead, I don't care. You can't do anymore to me," her tone was bold and forceful, her eyes connecting with his - blue clashing with brown. "Do it." Squid's face turned hard before crushing himself into her, clutching onto her so tightly she couldn't breathe.

---

_Author's Note – I am once again so sorry for the large pause before this update. Anyways, please review! Thank you._


	12. God

Redivivus

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer – I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption. _

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – Sorry for the horridly long wait, lots of Coursework to be finished. _

_Chapter Twelve_

"_God"_

Rain poured from the skies and dribbled down the window pain, distorting the picture inside. Trickles of the water stained the ceiling of the shabby room and small drips fell; though the occupants couldn't really notice that now. Blistering old winds may have been howling and the merry cheer of drunks echoed outside, but it was so far away that the two didn't notice – well at least it seemed far away to them. The flustering hearts, drummed quickly in their chests as they breathed – their throats both dry and bodies shaking; one from fear the other from what seemed to be excitement. 

"Do you hate me, April?" he asked in mockery, his hands clutching her arms tight. His breath was surprisingly hot – she wondered how anything but cold could be produced from such a monster. April's eyes dared to lock with his, gazing with a judging glare; trying to figure out his motive. "Do you?" he whispered, crushing her harder against the wall, where her equally helpless shadow stood against, his head bowed to gaze down upon her – patronizing her. His nails pinched at the soft skin of her wrists as he clutched them tighter, growling at her pathetic whimper. A low chuckle left his throat watching as she hung like a doll in his arms; his marionette doll. "You don't hate me – you feel fuckin' sorry for me, don't ya', April?" He mumbled, his eyes so focused on her face, watching her reactions. "You have so much pity though don't you, April?" Every time her name would pass through his lips she could feel her stomach clench in disgust – she began to resent her name; how he knew it, how he said it, how he would use it against her. "You have so much pity that there's even some left over for scum like me, huh April?" His rough, slightly stubbled face grazed across her face and she winced in revulsion; the feel of his skin irked her. One of his hands left her wrist and gripped at some of her hair – a dish-washer blond, still straggly but at least clean. "You pretend to be so pure, don't you April?" he grumbled, his cheek still against hers. "You try so hard. You try not to hate – but I can feel it, I feel your skin crawling, April." April could feel his eye-lashes brush her skin as he shut his eyes and groaned. "Your disguise is becoming so thin, April – I can almost see straight through you." She shivered and shut her eyes, trying to close off her mind; trying so hard to shut-down. 

"What are you trying to prove, Squid?" she whispered, feeling his rough hands wandering beneath the soft cloth covering her sickly body. His breathing became heavy as his clasp tightened around her body, pulling away from the wall and pushing her to the floor, him following.

"Heal me, April," he whispered, his voice so desperate and quiet that the dripping of his tears were louder. "Heal me." Hands roamed and ripped, the cool damp air hitting skin, goose bumps rising, arm hairs becoming erect. Trying to escape was pointless now, you just have to accept and give in to hopeless situations. 

"What are you trying to prove?" she asked again. Squid's eyes opened and he smiled; a disgusting twist of lips as his eyes roamed till he reached her face – contorted in determination. He looked at her soft eyes and felt his heart pound and his throat close-up, all noise began to sound muffled – as though hands were pressed against his ears. _"Alan! You're hurting me.___April's face was gone, replaced with a woman's he'd rather forget – she was screaming, tears spilling down her cheeks – her cries pounding harshly on his ear-drums, reverberating in his head. His nails dug into the flesh beneath him, moving of their own accord, hideous welts breaking the skin, blood dribbling; staining skin. Squid jerked backwards and gasped for air, thrashing around the floor, his head becoming light, and vision swirling. Squid closed his eyes and greeted the darkness as a friend. 

His head was aching, and he could feel the cool air dancing on his forehead, evaporating the sweat. His eye-lids slowly opened, and the blinding light from the light-bulb above him, stung his eyes causing him to squint and groan. Twisting his body to the side, he found April perched on the end of the bed, where his was lying. Her bare back to him, revealing her spinal-bone hideously prodding out of her skin, the clasp of a modest white bra as a miniscule cover – she obviously hadn't bothered to dress. Her pearly skin glowed eerily with sweat, contrasting disgustingly with the small scratches marring her skin. She was kneeling on the edge, her hands hung by her sides, dead like a doll's; now purpling from the cold, veins revoltingly visible from beneath her milky skin, knuckles were bruised and finger-nails grubby. 

"You're awake," she whispered; her voice hauntingly quiet and fragile. Squid sat up, and rubbed his face with his hands. "I know you loathe yourself, Alan – and so do I, loathe myself that is. Did she hurt you?" Squid could see her shiver as she spoke, perhaps her own words scaring her. The silence hung and Squid closed his eyes.

"I dunno' what you mean," he grumbled, bowing his head. April shifted her weight to her side and laid so innocently at the end of the bed, leaning on her side, her back still to him. His eyes followed over the ribs that the skin was pulled across, the bones ever so noticeable, he then looked to her arm, placed under her head, acting like a pillow, which curled under searching for warmth in the cold room. 

"Your mother, did she hurt you? I could hear you screaming in our sleep." Squid's head bowed forward and his hands threaded into his hair and his breath hitched into his throat, his eyes were closed and his head was aching. April swallowed the sick rising in her throat and closed her own eyes. "It's okay," she whispered, her throat croaky and voice worn. 

"Don't you dare start this fuckin' shit, April – not you!" Squid bellowed, standing from the bed, fists clenched. "I'm sick of this shit, people pretendin' it's okay, pretendin' they understand – My mum was an amazin' woman. After my fuck-up of a father left, she stuck by with me." Squid's anger was bubbling and he could feel his control slipping. April kept her back to him and weakly shook her head. 

"It's not your fault, Alan," she replied. Squid's fist pounded into the nearby wall to his side, which shook the room, his body now shaking like a leaf, ready to fall from the tree.

"She never fuckin' hurt me! It was me – I was just so fuckin' scared! I hit her again, and again, and again," his voice was tearing away, his shouts becoming cries and his legs began to feel like jelly. His heart was showing, pulsating in front of her, its weeping running down his stomach soaking in the carpet – its pain remaining as a stain forever. He should have stopped talking, he should have kept it all in, where it could be forgotten – he didn't want to be a charity case and sympathetic story that at first everyone would aw at before forgetting it to the next sob story. April turned and crawled over across the bed, near to where he stood – her cold hand reached out and clasped his; supplying the strangest of comfort. She bowed her head onto his hand and knelt in front of him. "Don't touch me," he whispered, although he didn't pull away. She moved his hand to her cold cheek, the soft skin rubbing his calloused skin. "Please don't – don't tempt me, April," his voice becoming husky. She kept hold of his hand and looked up at him, her eyes so wide and innocent – so naïve and pure. Squid looked own at her and gulped feeling nausea falling over him. 

"You hurt your mother," she comprehended it now; all the guilt he held, carrying it around, piling atop his back slowly crushing him. "Why?" Squid shifted uncomfortably, his heart pounding harder before and yet it felt so numb to him, but April could feel it; she even swore that she could see it. 

"I ain't here to be a sob story – I ain't some story to be published for these people who will quickly glance at the headline on the front cover and sigh, before returning to their selfish little lives. They'll go on to talk with their little friends, sayin' how terrible it is and then about how the mother should have hugged him more, or maybe that his father shouldn't have worked such long hours – they'll judge it, when they don't have a fuckin' clue," Squid paused suddenly, "They don't know." April could feel him shaking; his muscles twitching with discomfort, baring things, which they knew should have kept hidden. Squid took a deep breath, holding the air inside of his lungs for longer than usual, before slowly allowing it to escape; just like everything else he once possessed. "My dad did have the balls to return once – I remember bein' about fifteen an' when he came through the door I hardly recognized him, he…" Squid shifted and bowed his head lower "he…looked just like me," he finished drawing each word with disgust and anger, perhaps even with a tinge of sadness. "My ma' jus' took him back – she fuckin' welcomed him with a hug and a kiss. I told her to turn him away, but she bought his apologies like cigarettes." Squid gulped down harshly as the sick rose in his throat, a cold bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his neck before finally resting in the nook of his collar bone. 

"What happened?" April asked, voice delicate. Squid could feel his body shiver at the thoughts that twisted in his brain. Squid landed on the only emotion he could handle; anger. 

"It ain't none of your fuckin' business, April!" he seethed, voice hoarse and knuckles near-white where his fists were clenched. Squid's eyes closed, concealing the windows – so nobody could see inside; even if it meant he would never feel the light inside of him. 

Squid could still feel the belt in his hands, its smooth outface almost soft on his skin, the gold buckle glittering with malice in the dim light. He remembered clutching it in his small hands, his breath hitched within his throat, heart pounding, veins shivering with tension. The room had been silent apart from the quiet cooing from his father, his hot breath down Squid's neck, his breath smeared with the breath of alcohol. _"Do it, Alan, become a man." _Squid had looked down at his mother, her face impassive, but eyes gleaming with tears. _"It's okay, Alan" _His mother had hushed. Squid remembered taking a harsh gulp of air – containing his tears, sucking in the pain as he swung the belt high – its body dancing in the air, before the belt smacked harshly down onto his mother's skin; like a rabid snake. The belt's gold fangs broke the skin; her crimson blood weeping from the cut, dribbling down her skin. He could remember the final cheer of his father, before he tore himself away from the memory and looked down at April, now kneeling, and hands clasped together, praying. 

"There ain't no God, April," Squid whispered, his words crackling in his throat as he spoke. She looked back at him, her cheekbones looking more prominent, with skin hanging off if them, cheeks hollow and eyes wide. 

"I never said there was, it's just easier to believe in something – to have faith is something, rather than knowing this is all pointless," she whispered, her voice now level, eyes caught with his. 

"Yeah, it's easier – but it don't make it true or worthwhile," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. "God is a joke," he pronounced every word with disgust and spite. April sighed and cocked to her head to the side in curiosity. 

"You seem so sure; I have my doubts but you seem unable to see any other way."

"Fine, April. Tell me something, God forgives all, right?" April nodded "Would he forgive me, April? Forgive for all these sins that I have committed – disgusting enough to turn any church to rubble, would he forgive me?" his lips twisted upwards into a cruel smirk, eyes narrowed like slits, staring at her a knowing mask covering his face. April paused, closing her eyes slowly, allowing her weary vision to rest, before locking eyes with him once again. 

"Yes"


	13. A Lie for a Lie

Redivivus

**Redivivus**

_Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar._

_Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption._

_Warning! – Mild swearing._

_Author's Note – _

_HermioneandMarcus –Thanks so much for the review, and I am really trying and updating as soon as I can._

_HunkyChunkyMonkey97030 – Aw, thank you so much, I was hoping it wasn't getting too corny. Thanks for reviewing. _

_76478747 – I absolutely loved reading your review. Thank you so much and I hope the wait wasn't too long for this chapter. I really hope for another review, but even if not thanks for this wonderful one!_

_Chapter Thirteen_

"_A lie for a lie" _

--

"Good evening, I'm Sharon Keith and here with the 9'o clock news. Today's top story is circled around the seventeen year old murderer who has escaped from prison just two days ago, thought to be mentally unstable and extremely dangerous. The police warn those in the…" The television screen turned black, as Squid stood with his finger poised over the power button.

"What are you watching this shit for?" he spat angrily, his eyes fixed on April, who sat slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed post. Her eyes drifted upwards and looked tiredly at him.

"You are all over the news, someone is bound to recognize you," she said, her voice monotone, eyes glazed over in disinterest and face sullen. Squid's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed greater than before, glaring at her with anger.

"What the fuck is with you?" he asked in demand. April sighed and lifted herself from the ground, trying to match his height but found herself a good foot shorter.

"This is just so tiring, Squid," she sighed. "I can't keep being some marionette doll for your entertainment. I have a mother and father to look after – I have responsibilities. I don't know what kind of fantasy you have come up with in your head, but I don't want to be here with you – I did not willingly runaway with you of my own choice. You threatened my father's life, Squid. I never want to be here with you." He could feel his stomach sinking, and his chest aching, looking at her now narrowed eyes gazing at him with such a hatred that he could feel his skin peeling away, revealing what she could see; his revolting, mangled soul. His cheeks sucked into his molars and he clenched his fists, his mind running away with him.

"But you love me, April," he said simply. His eyes now filled with fatigue, masking over the true anger as he really knew she was going to leave. He wouldn't let her, he couldn't let her. Her face settled on disgust and she looked away from him, before quickly glancing back at him, staring at him now with disbelief. His body began to shake involuntarily, his lips pressed tightly together, holding in his breath, just trying as hard as his might not to release all the furious fire blazing inside him. "I did this for you, April," he spoke softly and strained, containing the anger and putting on a sweet mask. "They didn't care about you. They don't fuckin' need you like I do!" His anger was rising higher and higher, tingling in his fingertips, looking upon her with such an intense gaze, as if to keep her from moving. April's eyes were wide, gazing with fear as his words strangled around her throat suffocating her. He began to edge towards her, a strange smile gently upturning the corners of his lips.

"I-I c-can't help you, Squid," she whispered, slowly walking backwards, before finding the back of knees hitting the edge of the bed. He kept coming forth, his gaze unmoving and directed only on her quivering form. "I need t-to leave," she stammered trying so hard to force the words out to sound strong, but in turn had the opposite effect. She closed her eyes as he stood an inch away. "Stop," she pleaded, so quietly and hopeless, dripping with desperation. His rough hand gently placed on her neck, his thumb slowly tracing her jaw-line, caressing the skin tenderly, raising goose bumps on her skin. He bowed down slightly, just so his lips brushed her ear, April feeling his breath on her neck, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

"If you leave me, I'll fuckin' hang myself, April. I'll hang myself for you – because of you," he whispered, words falling form his lips so smoothly and confident, his fingers slowly applying slight pressure on her neck accentuating his point. April's eyes widened, and her torn lips quivered, she could feel his other arm slowly snaking around her waist, pulling her into to him, tighter and tighter.

"P-please, don't…" her voice was crumbling away, slowly fading into the silence surrounding them. "I-I…miss him…jus-jus…I miss him so much," she whispered, her eyes slowly closing and her body becoming slack, only his arms supporting her disgustingly thin frame. Squid's ears peaked as faint whispers greeted his ears, sounding from just outside the door.

"April, do you hear that?" he asked, his eyes wide and now looking around in alert. "April?" he shook her body gently, but she did not stir. Squid looked down at her still face, like a porcelain doll's; unmoving and hauntingly pale. Forgetting the whispers, he pulled her legs up in his other arm, allowing her head to rest in the crook of his other elbow, supporting her little body like you hold a newborn. "April?" he whispered, her body completely still, his voice cracking into a low croak of desperation. He shook her violently and his face contorted into anger. "For fuck's sake!" he cursed loudly and within a split second, the door to the crumbling room was burst open, an army of police flooding inside, their guns poised, before pausing as their eyes settled on April, splayed in Squid's arms. Barking voices of officers, demanding Squid various things, fell upon his deaf ears as all he could hear, was his own heart beat, drumming quickly in his head. He looked down once again at her cold face and felt his stomach twist painfully in regret. His tired eyes glanced back upwards, his surroundings moving in seemly slow-motion and without sound, officers shouting things at him and each other, and as he gazed around the scene before him, his eyes were caught with another pair or piercing blues. His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed dangerously as Squid looked into the eyes of a traitor, standing so confidently out in the hallway, a camera man following behind him and a notepad clutched in his long, slim and pale fingers, a smirk plastered across his thin face, his other hand coming to sweep threads of hair to the rest of his slick-back hair. Squid's mind roared with anger and his jaw clenched as he glared intently at Zigzag, his body almost quivering trying in vain to contain the fury, roaring inside.

--

Her body felt weightless, yet aching and throbbing, her joints seemed almost cemented, but it was then that she realized she could hardly move. April opened her eyes, revealing fuzzy vision of a dark, seemly crooked room, filled with towers of filled cardboard boxes. A light hung above her head, hanging low and the light seemed to sear though her papery eyelids, pulling more ache in her head. She struggled slightly, finding her arms secured behind her, bound by what felt like rope; rough and scratchy. Cold salvia soaked the skin at the corners of her mouth, stuffed with ill-tasting material tied around her head. Her throat was dry realizing the hopelessness of her situation and her eyes jerked to the side as a sudden movement sent a pulse straight to her nerves.

"I'm gonna' take off your gag, if you promise not to scream," Squid said, his hands already poised behind her head, though his eyes level with hers. April gently nodded, despite the ache in her neck. The material was pulled away from her mouth, and she suddenly realized the dull pain in her jaw, moving it around slightly. She looked away from him, her eyes settling on a large rat to the side of where she sat tied to a chair, its little pinkish nose twitching for the scent of food. "You ain't been eatin' enough, I managed to find some food aroun' here that wasn't rotten," Squid's voice sounded kinder than before, almost convincing her that he had concern. She went to speak, but a spoon of gooey substance was forced into her mouth, causing her to gag and involuntarily swallow before spluttering and pressing her lips firmly together, turning her face away from him as far as her sore neck would allow. Squid's hand grasped her jaw and forced it to face him, before shoveling another spoonful of goop into her mouth, feeding her like a young child. The taste was tangy and reminded her of peaches. "You are eatin' this shit whether you like it or not," he grumbled, feeding her the last of a large jar he held. "There." April narrowed her eyes at him and pressed her knees together feeling more exposed then she would have preferred.

"Where are we?" she asked, trying in vain to sound strong and angry, but instead just sounded like a child with an innocent ring clinging to her words. The corner of Squid's lip upturned revealing a smirk, before standing and his face becoming out of view, clashing into the blazing light above her.

"Don't worry sweetheart," he said, kneeling again, in front of her, his rough hands on her bare knobby knees, bruised and grazed. She considered about struggling again, but thought it pointless, both ankles were attached to a chair leg, the splintering wood cutting into her skin. More questioning would just lead to answers she'd decided she would rather not know. "Here we are, I told you, April. You need me – you want me," he whispered, the words cutting into her stomach. Her face contorted into disgust and she looked at him with a heavy glare, before finally settling on sympathy.

"Squ-Alan, I don't understand – what are you trying to gain? What is there to gain from this?" April whispered, her voice crumbling. Squid shook his head and clutched tighter, his hands now at her thighs, beneath the material of her shorts.

"Don't you get it? April, some people are just fucked up," he replied so forcefully, "I am fucked up," he spoke as gently as he could stand "And so are you," he finished, placing an almost soft kiss on her knee, his light stubble grazing against her skin, causing her stomach to twinge in revulsion. April closed her eyes and willed herself to not think and let her escape.

"Do you want to be just like him?" she whispered softly, her face bowed low so he could not see her face. Squid lifted his head from her lap, and leveled with her, using his hand to fist in her hair and force her to face him.

"Who?" Squid asked his voice husky and low. His eyes searched to meet hers, and when they finally met, he could see her eye-balls gleaming, the light shining off of her iris, now glinting a subtle green in the odd light.

"Your father, Squid," she replied. "The man you've tried so hard not to be," her lips curled in disgust and anger at every word she spoke, it was the first time he had ever seen her so angry, her words coated in something so unlike her regular fragile squeak. Squid's nostrils flared as he breathed deeply, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

"I am not like him," he stammered slightly, the words sounding so fake to himself; his mouth betraying him. "I am not like him!" Squid bellowed – spittle landing upon her face as he shouted; April swore she could feel the room shake. She looked down and her hair hung like draped over her face.

"I rung that number on the ticket you gave me, you know," she said gently. "The one David wrote down the day he died…" she paused and took in a long deep breath as her voice became shaky. "The last person to hear his voice was a call-girl. He spent his last hour talking to woman – looking for…" Squid cupped his hand over her mouth. He didn't want to hear that from her – she was too innocent; he could feel himself getting angry at the thought that someone had taught her what a call-girl was. He looked at her face, not scrunched up crying but her face was so plainly straight but still unmistakably haunting – he wished she would just cry, at least tears could be wiped away – he would let them soak into his skin and absorb her pain, but she refused to share. April faked a smile and looked to the side, shaking her head, Squid's hand falling away from her mouth. "I guess that's the irony of it all." Squid allowed his hands to drop to her ankles, feeling where the skin was broken and grazed. She didn't even flinch as he touched the sore spots.

"Why'd you say that to him, April?" he asked, his voice dropping low. He felt goose-bumps rise on her skin beneath his fingers. "Why'd you say you wished he was dead?" he repeated, his Southern accent becoming more prominent. April hung her head, bowing forward, losing her eyes and biting her lip harshly.

"He told me I was a mistake," she whispered, barely audible. "He said that my parents didn't want me – and that I wasn't even my father's child." Squid cocked an eyebrow and knelt taller in front of her, lifting her face by upturning her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Kids say that shit all the time ya' know," he said, a slight smirk twitching upon his lips trying to extract the humor from it all – even if there were none.

"But he was telling the truth." Her voice was cold, distant and smeared with something Squid couldn't recognize. She turned her face, looking to the side closing her eyes and she breathed, her chest delicately rising and falling.

"I don't get it. So what if you dad ain't your real dad," he drawled, still looking at her intently. April sighed softly and turned back towards him.

"I went and asked my mother about it," her voice was so fragile, he wondered how the sound waves even traveled the air. "She told me abut this guy she knew, how he was nice enough and somewhat pleasant. She was married to my father at the time. But when she was at some party with this guy, he had followed her into the bathroom, pulling on her hair," April paused, her breaths becoming more hitched. "She told me how she, even now could feel how her back would hit the sink." Squid's lips pursed together, containing how people get raped all the time. He was going to try and understand, he was going to try and comfort her. "I know that every day, she tries not to see me as her worst mistake. I am a living memory of that night – she even told me how much I look like him, we even have the same laugh," her words were becoming strained as she willed herself not to cry, she couldn't be so selfish. "My mother is a wonderful person, if it wasn't for her selflessness, I wouldn't even be here and then maybe her and my father would be happy."

--

_Author's Note – I know it seems like all they do is sit around and talk all the time, but I promise some action is coming up. Please review; it would be very much appreciated. Thank you!_


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